


Time and Again

by manixzen



Series: Time and Again [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Curse Breaker Draco Malfoy, Draco is Still Snarky, Draco's already made amends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry is a Little Shit, Just a little bit of Angst, M/M, Magilinguist Hermione Granger, Mild Smut, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Post-Hogwarts, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Ron Weasley bakes, Time Loop, Time Travel, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, situational anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manixzen/pseuds/manixzen
Summary: Harry's absolutely sure it's Malfoy's fault that they are stuck reliving the same day over and over.Harry is good at his job. He's professional, has an excellent closure rate, and is a well-respected Auror. Malfoy's the unprofessional one with his snark and his judgemental eyebrows and his far too-posh-for-work robes. If Malfoy could have managed to refrain from being a pain in the arse, everything would have been just fine. They wouldn’t have gotten in yet another argument, Harry wouldn’t have been distracted, and Harry certainly wouldn’t have accidentally set off a powerful artifact at their crime scene.And if Malfoy would just get out of his way now, Harry's sure he can quickly fix this so they can get back to their comfortable professional dislike of one another.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Time and Again [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956118
Comments: 236
Kudos: 1288
Collections: Best_Fics





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Time and Again](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27526366) by [yangeldorf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yangeldorf/pseuds/yangeldorf)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this is a Groundhog's Day type fic, it's inspired by one of my favorite Stargate SG-1 episodes, "Window of Opportunity." The episode is fun and quirky and I hope I have captured some of that in this fic. 
> 
> Thank you always to my lovely beta, brokenbymuse, who while supremely busy over the last couple months, still managed to help me troubleshoot plot direction and be a sounding board. And, thank you to NW_snow for all your suggestions and help!
> 
> My plan is to post weekly. It's fully written, but still being revised/beta-ed, so unless I run into any revision snags, I should be able to keep to a consistent posting schedule. Hope you enjoy!

The Ministry quietly came to life as early workers ambled through the halls and the lifts to the various departments. A few stray letters fluttered overhead, nothing like the chaos of forms and interdepartmental memos that would fill the space in a few hours. 

Nodding hello to those he recognized, Harry made his way to his cubicle on Level Two and, as usual, was one of the first to arrive in his department. He plopped down in his chair. The stack of files on his desk was reaching dangerous heights, leaning precariously to one side. With their latest case solved, he knew he’d need to start digging in. Wrapping up a case was an amazing feeling—solving the puzzle, knowing that someone dangerous was taken off the streets. Unfortunately, for every lead and piece of evidence that was tracked down, another page would need to be written up and added to the report file. 

“Try these,” Ron said, as he entered their cubicle, shoving a tin of baked goods in front of Harry’s face. His empty stomach grumbled as the smell of freshly baked scones hit his nose. 

“Newest batch?” He grabbed one and took a large bite. The flavour was mostly okay, but it was somehow very dry without being crumbly. He felt like his mouth was being suctioned closed from the lack of moisture, unable to open enough to even chew.

“I think I got the texture right this time.” Ron sat down at his desk, spinning his chair back around to face Harry.

Harry nodded, looking around for something to drink—yesterday’s cold leftover tea would have been fine. There was nothing. He slowly kept chewing, hoping that his mouth could produce enough saliva to eventually work through this bite. Not that he would ever complain about Ron’s new hobby. The majority of baked goods Ron brought in were excellent. Harry would never say anything that would threaten his morning treats, particularly since he was living the bachelor’s life in Grimmauld Place sans house elf. Working late so often, he rarely bothered with grocery shopping any more, relying on takeaway most nights. At present, his cupboards were looking pathetically bare. He was pretty sure he was down to condiments at this point.

Ron continued to talk about this latest batch of scones and all the things he did different this time. Harry nodded and continued to slowly work his way through his first bite, feeling relief when he could finally feel his tongue again.

“Tea?” Harry asked, as he quickly put the scone down on his desk and grabbed his mug.

“Nah. I’m good.”

Harry nodded and headed over to the break area, listening to a few Junior Aurors talk excitedly about their first case while he made his morning tea. Some days it was hard to believe it had already been fourteen years since he’d joined the force, twelve since he’d completed training and become a full-fledged Auror. There were days that were hard: cases that were particularly gruesome, criminals that got away, meetings that could have been a memo. But, Harry still loved his work. He loved the satisfaction of locking someone away that had hurt others. He liked the feeling he got after figuring out a clue after weeks of obsessing. And, he liked knowing he was helping make the world a safer place.

The kettle finally whistled, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. A few minutes later, with one steaming mug of tea in hand, he went back to the cubicle he shared with Ron. Their first few years as Aurors they had spent with other partners, more senior Aurors that could show them the ropes and help them with all the additional learning they needed to do on the job. Training could only teach them so much. So, they’d bid their time until they could ask to be partnered together, and had been partners for the past four years. They worked well together, both complementing each others strengths and weaknesses.

Harry sat down, dreading a day with only paperwork to do, but before he could pull one of the files out to get started, Robards popped into view.

“Potter, Weasley. My office.” He walked brusquely back towards his office while Ron and Harry shared a look. Robards wasn’t one for pleasantries, so Harry and Ron followed him quietly until they were in his office.

“New case.” Robards picked up a file from his desk and handed it over to the two Aurors.

Harry grabbed the folder and nodded, trying not to sigh outwardly with relief—paperwork could wait another day.

“Anything we should know?” Ron asked.

“Break-in and a cursed artifact. You’ll be working with Malfoy on this, so, Potter, I expect you to act like the professional this time.” Robards looked at Harry for a long second.

“Yes sir,” Harry replied, wincing internally. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to get into a screaming match with Malfoy in the middle of a crime scene. If Malfoy could manage to act professionally for more than two seconds, they would have never had an issue in the first place.

“Understood,” Ron said, crowding Harry through the door.

“Fucking Malfoy, why is it always Malfoy?” Harry asked as they got to the lift, pushing the button harder than necessary.

Ron looked slightly exasperated as he turned to Harry. “Because Bill is currently somewhere in South America, and he’s the next best curse breaker the Ministry has—at least according to Bill, and he’d know.” Ron sighed. “I don’t understand how I can manage to work with the git these days and you still can’t. Even Hermione gets along well enough with him at work when he gets called in for projects in her department.”

“Because he doesn’t start fights with the two of you!” Harry exclaimed as they entered the lift. 

Ron looked at him flatly.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Harry huffed.

As they walked through Diagon Alley towards the crime scene, Harry flipped through the file. 

An antiques and charmed collectibles shop had been broken into. It appeared a few trunks with new acquisitions from an estate sale were rifled through, but the owner of the shop wasn’t sure if anything had been stolen because she hadn’t yet done inventory on all the items in the trunks. Several objects looked to have been dropped or abandoned during the crime, and it was one of these objects that was causing the most concern. No one knew what the object did, but the readings were what charms and curse experts classified as D-5, the highest level of artifact magic, which indicated something that was messing with powers far beyond what any magical object should. Instead of a simple break-in case, one that the MLE patrol force could have handled, it was now a high priority Auror case. 

As Harry entered the dark and dusty shop, he saw few other Ministry personnel wandering around the shop, sidestepping the larger antiques on the floor and peering at shelves packed with all sorts of objects. The Ministry photographer was already busy at work, her camera clicking away as she captured the scene. In the middle of the room, Malfoy was huddled over an object on the floor, his light blonde hair a stark contrast to his sombre dark grey robes. 

“Of course they’d send their Golden Boy,” Malfoy drawled from his crouched position, barely glancing up, as Harry walked over to him.

“Shut it, Malfoy. What do we have here?”

“Couldn’t be bothered to read the file again?”

“I read the file this time!” Harry exclaimed, feeling immediately dumb for taking the bait.

Malfoy snorted softly. “Sure you did. Well, the leather and gold pieces look homemade, possibly recent given the way the materials are cut, but we’d need an expert to verify. That’s not the problem, though. It’s the stone that’s sending off readings like I’ve never seen. This is- I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Malfoy sounded actually concerned about the readings, which definitely piqued Harry’s curiosity. In Harry’s experience, Malfoy treated even the most dangerous artifacts as if they were a bit beneath him in skill. Something rattling him was disconcerting.

Harry knelt just across from Malfoy, bending over what appeared to be a thin leather necklace laying on the scuffed up wood floor. A smooth black stone, about the size of an egg, was attached to the necklace by a golden rod that pierced its sides. It looked like the stone might spin if one were to flick it. Inside the stone, a dark substance swirled, almost as if the rock itself were liquid. There was something interesting about the stone—something that begged for closer inspection. Harry leaned in to get a better look.

“Careful! Don’t touch it. With these kinds of readings, there’s no telling what contact with a person will do to it,” Malfoy said, with exasperation.

“I wasn’t going to touch it, Malfoy.” Harry grit his teeth and sat back, curiosity quickly replaced by irritation.

“Okay, well now that you’ve gotten a good look, let me do my job.” Malfoy looked at him expectantly.

Harry took out a pad of parchment and self-inking quill. “I need to record and notate every item around it and the placement in the room before you start messing with it.” 

“I don’t  _ mess _ with things,” Malfoy ground out. “You need to let me stabilise it first, then you can do whatever recording you need to do.” Malfoy's eyes narrowed dangerously.

“If we don’t get everything recorded, we won’t have a complete idea of the whole scene if your spell work goes wrong. We don’t even know that we have all the facts yet.” Harry looked at him in a challenge.

“I’m not going to mess up your bloody crime scene, Potter,” Malfoy spat. “I realise that you think I’m incompetent, but surely someone at the Ministry has explained I’m the best person for this job, so kindly give me five minutes to do it! And, I think we both know of the two of us who the more likely candidate is for fucking up a crime scene, or have you forgotten Aberdeen?” Malfoy’s mouth quirked in a mocking smirk.

Harry felt his cheeks flush. “I don’t really know anything about your abilities, actually, including how you bribed your way into this position-”

“Says the Saviour who gets whatever he wants handed to him on a silver platter. I worked my arse off to get this job,” Malfoy said in a harsh whisper, glancing around at the other Department of Magical Law Enforcement staff milling around the room. “And fuck you for suggesting otherwise. Maybe the Boy Wonder doesn’t remember what it’s like to work hard for things, but the rest of us still do.”

Harry felt himself vibrating with anger as he leaned towards Malfoy, dropping his hand to his side to brace his body.

“Stop- you’re too close!” Malfoy exclaimed, just as Harry felt his hand brush the egg-shaped stone.

Harry froze, but it was already too late. Malfoy seemed to register what happened a split-second later, his eyes going wide, but he didn’t get his wand up in time. A bright purple light suddenly shot out of the object and swirled around the two men, shimmering slightly. Before either could react, the light dissipated.

They both lifted their wands, scanning the room and each other in a panic. To the side of the room, Ron stood frozen, staring at the scene that just unfolded.

Harry looked around quickly and couldn’t see anything wrong. He looked down at his hands, lowering his wand slightly. Nothing. He looked back up at Malfoy.

“What happened?” Harry asked, some fear in his voice.

“I- I don’t know.” Malfoy was patting himself down, eyes still wide in panic. “Those readings... we should-”

Malfoy started hurriedly casting spells on both of them, muttering under his breath. When he finally stopped and nodded, they both started to sag in relief.

“Okay. It look- I think we’re okay.” Malfoy dropped to the floor from his crouched position, letting out a loud sigh.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Ron said as he walked over. “Are you both okay?”

Malfoy shot him a dirty look and then turned back on Harry, nostrils flaring. “You imbecile! You could have gotten us both killed! I don’t care what you think of me and how I got this job, you could at least bother to follow basic fucking safety protocols.”

Before Harry could reply, Ron was dragging Harry towards the door. “Malfoy, we’ll just let you finish up in here, and do our stuff after.”

Malfoy looked like he was shaking with anger as they walked out to the street.

“That no good, bloody-” Harry spat. Now that the initial panic was over, Harry felt heat rushing to his face and his temper rising.

“Harry.” Ron looked at him. “You need to calm down. I’m not saying that Malfoy isn’t a git, I know we can agree on that until the end of our days, but you’ve got to stop letting him get to you. You could have gotten really hurt; we all could have gotten really hurt.”

“Everyone just acts like he doesn’t start it every single time! It’s completely fine for him to walk around being a bastard to someone he works with, but if I say anything back, suddenly I’m the bad guy! How can you stand working with him?”

“I’ve got two kids at home who never let me sleep, a wife who is often stressed about her new job, and a house and my own career to worry about. Frankly, I don’t have the energy to let it get to me anymore. And, I don’t give enough of a crap about Malfoy these days to care what he thinks about me. You need to let it go.”

Harry deflated slightly. He knew Ron was right, but just the presence of Malfoy was enough to make his blood boil. Malfoy still acted like he was better than everyone, better than Harry, as if the war never even happened. Or worse—as if it were some mild inconvenience from his past that he just needed to brush off before moving on with his life.

But, Harry also knew he needed to be a professional here, even if Malfoy wouldn’t, and calm down. He found himself increasingly embarrassed by his behavior every time he lost his temper with Malfoy. Somehow just being around him made him feel like a teenager again—all anger and hormones and irrationality. He cursed Malfoy internally for bringing out this side of him. In all other areas of his life, he acted like a mature adult, but the minute Malfoy came even into his periphery, somehow he reverted back to an angry fifteen year old. And, now he’d probably get in trouble with his boss,  _ again _ . 

Harry blanched slightly when he thought about this getting back to Robards. There were enough Ministry staff at the scene - people securing the site and the photographer from forensics - that Harry knew Robards would hear about this by the end of the day. Harry worked on staying calm while they waited for Malfoy to finish up.

“You’ll have my report in the morning,” Malfoy said coldly, as he walked by the two Aurors.

Ron gave Harry a look that clearly was meant to remind him to keep his mouth shut. Harry managed to not start up another fight and walked back into the building for them to finish up their investigation.

As they walked back towards their cubicle later that day with their case file now thicker with new evidence, Harry felt some shame creeping in. Surely at 32 years old he was too old to let Malfoy goad him like a schoolboy. He had set off a potentially dangerous artifact just because Malfoy had been rude to him.

Harry sighed, sitting down on his chair with a plop and tossing the case file on his desk. 

“Potter!” Robards came bursting into their cubicle, his face red. “We are going to have a long talk about your behavior tomorrow. But for now, you need to get to St Mungo’s.”

“Sir, I don’t think that the artifact did anything. Malfoy ran some tests and we both felt fine after,” Harry explained, sitting up straight and trying to look like his most professional self.

“You don’t know what that artifact did or did not do. Weasley, take Potter to St. Mungo’s immediately and see that he gets a full checkup.” Robards gave Harry one last irritated look and then said, “Tomorrow, Potter” as he walked back out.

Ron stood up immediately. “Let’s go.” Harry grit his teeth and followed Ron out and towards the floo to the hospital, deciding this might be the worst day he’d had in a long while.

After several hours of waiting, spells, prodding, and precautionary potions, Harry was finally released from St Mungo’s with a clean bill of health.

“I told you I felt fine,” Harry muttered to Ron as they wound through the halls of the hospital back to the lifts.

“And I wasn’t about to disobey Robards. Look, just be happy you’re alive and that object didn’t rip a hole in reality. We’ll deal with Robards tomorrow and hopefully no more cursed object cases will come in while Bill’s still out of the country.”

Harry sighed, pushing through the main doors to the hospital. Bill had left Gringotts for a Ministry job when his kids were young. He still had to travel occasionally, but far less often than when he worked for the bank. Harry supposed he should have been grateful that he usually got to work with Bill.

“Okay, I’m off to spend time with Hermione and the kids.”

“Night, Ron.” Harry turned and decided to walk for a bit before apparating. The early summer air felt refreshing after several hours breathing in the dry and too sanitised air of the hospital. The late June sun still wouldn’t go down for a couple of hours. For having been an entirely shite day, it was a beautiful evening, not too cold or too warm, the skies clear. He walked for some time, feeling the stress melt away. Eventually, when he felt like he’d calmed down fully, he apparated home. 

Landing on the top step with a practiced ease, Harry pushed through the front door. The dread of his upcoming meeting with Robards was starting to weigh on him.

Harry knew he was a good Auror. He had an excellent closure rate, and even if he couldn’t manage to be professional around Malfoy, Harry was known for being good with victims and always staying within professional boundaries with criminals. He hoped that would work in his favour and his punishment wouldn’t be too severe. If this were the first time this issue had come up, he’d be less worried, but he’d already been written up twice due to arguments with Malfoy while at a crime scene, so he knew it didn’t look good. Fucking Malfoy. 

Harry wondered if Malfoy even got reprimanded at all, or if he managed to worm his way out of it like he’d wormed his way onto the job. He couldn’t imagine why else they’d hire someone so rude and condescending, regardless of what Bill said about him. The worst part of it was that no one else seemed to notice; Malfoy was all polite and professional to everyone else’s face, seemingly saving up his outward animosity for Harry.

After attempting and failing to rummage around for some food, he called it an early night. His house always felt so empty, and lately it was showing signs of disuse—dust and dirt accumulating in the less used areas. After spending some time immediately after the war renovating, trying to make it feel like the living could exist in the house again, it had slowly crept back to its sad state. Furniture worn and dusty, floors dingy, the air feeling heavy with neglect.

At first he hadn’t noticed how much he avoided being home, just chalking it up to being busy at work—trying to learn the ropes and prove himself as more than the Boy Who Lived and as a genuine Auror. But over the years, he started to notice that he just didn’t want to be home. Even dreading holidays and weekends where there wasn’t any work to do. He’d pick up extra cases, offer to stay late and help out with things, anything to avoid having to think too deeply about how profoundly dissatisfied he’d turned out to be with his life.

Working late became the norm, and though Ron occasionally got on his case about it, he knew his friend was generally relieved that Harry was happy to pick up his slack while he had little ones at home.

While he tried to make sure to get away enough to see his godchildren once in awhile, he knew he was absent too often. Teddy was now a teenager and too busy with his friends to care much, but Ron and Hermione’s kids, Rose and Hugo, small as they were, still wanted to see him. He also tried to make it to Sunday dinners at the Weasley’s occasionally, but those were getting further and further apart as well. After Ginny and he had split after the war, he’d stopped going altogether, thinking he might be less than welcome. After he’d missed Christmas, Mrs Weasley finally put a stop to that with a howler explaining that she expected family to show up for holidays.

Harry would be forever grateful for the Weasleys, and knew they considered him family, but somehow, after the war, he always felt just on the outside. He knew they loved him like their own, but somehow it never replaced that aching feeling that he was still missing something, missing his own family that was long gone. Grief for a life that he didn’t even remember. So he threw himself into work and tried not to think about it too much.

When he’d finally drag himself home at the end of a long day, he’d generally go straight to bed or watch tv in his study that he had warded to allow electronics to work. But generally, he couldn’t stand being in his house. It was big and empty and full of broken dreams of the family he had hoped to one day fill the space with. But every time he thought of selling and getting someplace smaller, he felt like he was throwing in the towel. He’d become irrationally convinced that if he downsized, he’d never have a family of his own. So, he kept his too big house with all of its empty rooms and avoided spending too much time there.

As he got ready for bed, his thoughts spun back around to the inevitable reaming out he was in for in the morning and sighed. Hopefully, this all would look better in the morning.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke feeling refreshed as his wand went off, and he had a good solid minute before he remembered that he was dreading going to work that day. He tried to remind himself he was lucky that he wasn’t actually in St Mungo’s suffering the effects of some terrible curse... or dead. But a small part of his brain thought he might prefer laying in a bed at St. Mungo’s to dealing with Robards.

With a deep sigh and great reluctance, Harry forced himself out of bed.

A short while later, he exited the Ministry floo, and a witch in a purple robe ran right into him.

“Sorry,” she said quickly and hurried on her way. Harry laughed to himself. He was pretty sure that was the same witch that had run into him just yesterday too. He wondered if she worked nights in some department and was always raring to get out of there first thing in the morning.

He slowly made his way through the winding atrium. 

Like most Ministry workers, Harry hated the new monstrosity of a statue in the Atrium. The statue was actually an enormous circular piece of marble with a wide curving path cut through the middle, forcing any Atrium traffic  _ through _ the statue instead of around it. Along the path were carved scenes of Wizarding-Magical Being history. The problem wasn’t in the art or the meaning, but the design. Instead of promoting recollection and remembrance of their problematic history, it caused daily irritation and bottlenecks of Ministry workers trying to get to and from work. 

The statue was one of Hermione’s first missions at the Ministry after the war. Both she and the artist had insisted the design would give people time to contemplate the meaning of the scenes. Harry was pretty sure not a single person was contemplating anything other than how frustrating it made everyone’s daily walk into and out of work. Always the loyal friend, Harry often found himself defending the statue to random co-workers, even as he secretly agreed with them. 

He eventually made it to his desk and felt dread settle in his bones. He glanced at the giant stack of files that he hadn’t gotten a chance to start yesterday. Well, at least if Robards put him on desk duty, he’d get a chance to catch up on his paperwork, he thought wryly.

A few minutes later, Ron shoved another container of scones under his nose. “Try these.”

Harry laughed. “Another batch?” Ron obsessed over one recipe at a time until he got it right. “I’m going to get a cup of tea first, but I promise I’ll have one right after.”

“Alright, let me know what you think of the texture of this batch though. I think I finally got it right,” Ron said as Harry walked away.

Harry didn’t know if Ron had managed to fix the dryness, but he figured he should probably have a cup of tea ready until Ron moved on to the next recipe. After procuring a large mug of tea, he ventured back and immediately tasted the scone. The flavour was still not great, and it was definitely too dry again. Harry quickly took a sip of tea this time and felt the scone soften in his mouth. Much better.

A few minutes later, Robards appeared in the cubicle entrance. Harry felt his stomach drop out and straightened his posture immediately.

“Potter, Weasley. My office.” Harry gave Ron a look as they quickly followed Robards to his office.

Wondering if Ron would be temporarily reassigned to a new partner, Harry took a deep breath and entered the office.

“New case.” Robards thrust a case file towards them. Harry’s heart jumped, and he felt a flutter of hope that whatever disciplinary action awaited him might be put off. Perhaps they were too busy for Robards to deal with it just yet.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Harry said quickly, herding Ron out of the office.

Ron looked at him oddly. “In a rush much?”

“Just happy to have a case,” Harry replied, feeling a smile creep up on his lips. They headed straight for the lifts. Harry knew he’d still get disciplined eventually for the incident—not only for getting in another unprofessional argument with Malfoy, but also setting off a potentially cursed object. He could hope, though, that the longer it took to come up, the more time Robards had to cool off about it.

“Where to?” Ron asked. Harry flipped open the file to look at the info sheet that had the address and case overview on it. It was the shop.

“Huh.” Harry frowned and stopped in his tracks. Ron leaned over, reading over Harry’s shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go,” Ron set off for the floo to Diagon Alley. Once they were walking down the cobblestone road, Harry continued to flip through the file.

“Why do they have us going back there? And why did he call it a new case?” Harry asked, mostly just to himself.

“What are you talking about?” Ron looked over at him.

“The shop—the one we went to yesterday.” Harry opened the file towards Ron to show him the same case description.

“You feeling alright, mate?” Ron asked, as they turned the corner to the shop.

“Fine. I already told you that last night.” Harry looked up at him confused and followed Ron into the shop.

A few Ministry personnel wandered around the shop, scooting around the larger antiques and collectables. The crime scene photographer was once again busy collecting photographic evidence of the shelves full of dusty artifacts. Everything looked the same, except Malfoy who was standing over the object. When they entered, Malfoy looked up at them, brow furrowed, and then looked back at the object.

Harry waited for the anger or at the very least a sarcastic retort about how he was being let back on the scene, but none came. He walked carefully over to Malfoy, reminding himself to stay calm and not let himself get baited into a fight. “Do you know why they have us back here?”

Malfoy looked up, brow still furrowed. “What?”

“Did something new happen since yesterday? Normally we just work the case, but Robards handed it back to us—I thought maybe something happened.” Harry explained.

“You remember?” Malfoy asked carefully.

“What?”

“You remember being here? Yesterday?”

“Of course I remember... why wouldn’t I remember that?” Harry asked, trying to figure out if Malfoy was taking the piss.

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Malfoy said letting out a long breath.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked, starting to get concerned.

“Everyone else... it was like yesterday never happened. I thought...” Malfoy ran a hand through his hair and let out a slightly hysterical laugh.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure, fine.” Malfoy said, still looking a little unhinged. “And you don’t know why we are here?”

“I thought you knew. Robards just handed me the file, so I came here. I thought it was a little strange because it was the same file as yesterday, so I thought you knew why we needed to come back.”

“What do you mean it was the same file as yesterday?” Malfoy asked slowly.

“Just that. It’s the same... none of the additions we made to it yesterday.” Harry said, now realising that was a little strange also. Hadn’t the file been on his desk?

“Potter... Can you tell me what happened this morning?”

“With the file?”

“Yes, or just-” Malfoy ran his hand through his hair again, eyes a little wild. “What happened today when you left your house? Just humour me, please.”

Harry wondered again if he was being messed with, but the please took him off-guard. Malfoy was never this polite with him.

“Erm- I flooed in and then went to my office, Ron offered me a scone and then Robards called us in his office and gave us the file.”

“Okay, and what happened yesterday morning?” Malfoy asked carefully.

“I mean pretty much the same,” Harry replied, still confused. “My mornings aren’t really that interesting.”

“Pretty much the same? Or exactly the same?”

“What do you...” Harry thought for a minute about the woman at the floo. “A witch ran into me just outside of the Ministry floo yesterday and I’m pretty sure it was the same woman today.”

“Was she dressed the same?”

“Erm- yes.”

Malfoy exhaled. “And then did anyone talk to you before you got the file?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Please just... I’ll explain in a minute.” Malfoy looked so worried that Harry was starting to panic even though he didn’t understand what was going on.

“Ron came in and offered me a scone.”

“And he did the same yesterday?”

“Yeah...”

“Did that seem odd that he did the same thing both days?”

“Not really, he’s been on this baking kick where he makes the same thing every day until he gets the recipe right.”

Malfoy looked up at the ceiling, and then took a deep breath. “Weasley, did you bring in scones to work yesterday?”

“What?”

“Just-” Malfoy huffed in frustration.

“As yesterday was Sunday, that would be no,” Ron answered slowly. “Harry, I'm going to make sure we get all the photos, are you okay over there?” Ron looked back and forth between the two of them.

“Yeah, erm- we’re fine. Thanks.” Harry turned back to Malfoy.

Malfoy let out a somewhat crazed laugh.

“What is going on?” Harry asked. “Malfoy! What is going on?”

Malfoy rubbed his hands over his face. “We’re reliving yesterday.”

“What? That’s not possible. There aren’t any time turners left and no one knows how to recreate that magic,” Harry explained, feeling a creeping panic as he replayed in his head all the events of the day so far. “And wait—we’d still be here right?! There’d be two of me and two of you. Why aren’t we here then?”

“I have no idea. I have no idea what happened, but somehow, and I’ll put money on it having to do with this object right here, we went back.”

Harry looked at the device, feeling more ominous about it than he did at any point yesterday and feeling foolish he’d let his anger at Malfoy get in the way of being careful around such a powerful artifact.

“But it didn’t even take us back immediately,” Harry said. “Did it wait for us to fall asleep?”

“Potter, do I look like I have any idea what this thing did? I was sitting down to read a book with a glass of wine last night and then suddenly I was in bed and it was morning. I have been walking around today thinking I’d lost my bloody mind with people trying to start the same conversations with me all morning.” Malfoy sighed and ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I suppose we should go to St Mungo’s. I should have gone last night, but I felt fine and all my diagnostics were coming back clean, so I thought I’d be okay to wait a day... which was probably ill-advised.”

“I already went,” Harry said.

“What?”

“I went last night, they ran every test they had—completely clean.”

Malfoy groaned. “Okay. So...” He started pacing around the room. “Maybe it's just a different type of time turner, which wouldn’t necessarily show up as a curse anyway, so we went back and as long as we don’t touch it again, we should be fine.”

“So, if everyone doesn’t remember yesterday, then that means no one knows we got in a fight and I set off the device?” Harry said with a dawning realization, suddenly feeling more optimistic than he had all day.

Malfoy looked at him flatly. “I know you set off the device.”

“Any chance you could not tell anyone?” Harry asked very nicely.

Malfoy crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “What’s in it for me?”

Harry groaned. “You not also getting in trouble for getting into a fight?”

“Oh no, I have witnesses that you start-”

“Oh!” Harry laughed suddenly. “No, you don’t! It would just be your word against mine.”

“You-” Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “Fine, Potter. But don’t touch anything this time. Stay completely away from this object and I’ll not tell anyone what an idiot you are. Let’s just get through today and hopefully we don’t have to see each other for a while.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Harry walked over towards Ron with a smile on his face.

“What was that about? And are you actually smiling after talking to Malfoy?”

“Let’s just say I finally won a round,” Harry said, feeling light as a feather. Tomorrow, he could go into work with no worries. There would be no desk duty, no probation or write-up. Things were looking up.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up feeling refreshed as he cancelled the alarm on his wand. He’d gone to bed early again, as he was still feeling fairly exhausted from the stress of the past few days’ events. As he got ready for work, he couldn’t believe his luck. Not only had the device not been something catastrophic, he now wasn’t even going to get in trouble for his unprofessional and dangerous behavior. 

He made a mental promise to himself to never do that again. Ron was right; he needed to stop letting Malfoy get to him. This was an unexpected second chance, and he thought he’d better not tempt fate by not learning his lesson.

He exited the floo and was promptly run into by the witch in the purple robe.

“Sorry,” she said and quickly walked off. Harry froze. No, no, no. Maybe it was just a coincidence, maybe she really did work the night shift and left at the same time every morning... in the same purple robe. He made his way up to the second level in a daze.

Once at his desk, he looked around.

Was there something that should be different? He couldn’t tell. He hadn’t touched his paperwork in days, and he’d spent yesterday in the field. He sat down, trying to think.

A few minutes later, Ron popped into the cubicle with a container in hand, quickly taking off the lid and offering it to Harry.

“Try these.” Harry looked up at Ron and then dropped his head to his desk with a groan. He needed to find Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

“You alright mate?” Ron asked.

Harry started laughing, head still resting on his desk. He thought about explaining the situation to Ron and then imagined being immediately dragged to St. Mungo’s for tests again. Wondering whether it would be worse to spend the morning getting poked and prodded at the hospital or to face Malfoy, he finally sighed and decided on Malfoy.

“Fine, just having a weird week,” Harry replied. At least that much was true. He waited for a few minutes, checking his watch.

“Potter, Weasley. My office.” Harry dragged himself up and followed Robards to his office.

“New case.”

Harry took the offered file and offered a thanks as he turned and headed out the door, not giving Ron enough time to ask any questions. He didn’t want to be lectured about working with Malfoy again.

“Not going to even ask about the case?” Ron asked as he followed him through the Ministry.

“I’m sure the details are in the file,” Harry replied, and made a show of opening the file to look at the details he already had memorized.

Ron looked over at him with a puzzled expression and then shrugged.

“What do we have here anyways?” Ron asked a few minutes later as they made their way through Diagon Alley.

“Break-in at an antique shop, cursed object on the scene.”

“I wonder if they’ve already sent out a cursebreaker,” Ron said. “Bill is still in South America.”

Harry didn’t reply and just focused on getting to the shop. When he walked through the door, he saw Malfoy standing over the object in a similar position as yesterday. Or was it yesterday? Harry wondered. Did it count as yesterday if it was still today? Harry shook his head slightly to clear the confusing train of thought just as Malfoy turned to them, expression livid.

“Potter, a word.” Malfoy walked past them and out of the shop.

Ron looked between them and started to open his mouth.

“It’s fine. Just give me a minute,” Harry said quietly to his friend and then turned and headed back to the cobblestone street where Malfoy was now pacing in front of the building.

Draco quickly cast a  _ Muffliato _ .

“It appears your complete idiocy has gotten us stuck in some sort of time loop,” Draco said, angrily.

“My idiocy?! Well maybe if you’d let me do my job instead of arguing with me about it, we wouldn’t be in this mess!”

“Right- like this is the first time you’ve made a mess of one of your precious Auror cases.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have missed the part where you never make mistakes. Need I remind you of the O’Neill case?”

“That was four years ago—are you serious? You had to dig back four years to remember a time I made a mistake?”

“I can go back further if you really want,” Harry shot back, looking pointedly at Malfoy’s left arm. Malfoy’s face flushed bright red, which was a warning sign, a warning sign Harry generally chose to ignore.

The argument degraded from there, both bringing up every reason they hated each other and every single thing that either had ever done to the other until Malfoy brought up Harry being too stuck up to even accept an offer of friendship from an eleven year old. As Harry tried to come up with any other incident or behavior to throw at Malfoy, Ron appeared next to Harry, waving his hands between the two men.

“What?!” Draco turned and yelled. Then, perhaps remembering the  _ Muffliato _ he had cast, he dropped the spell and asked more calmly, “What?”

“Er- we’ve got the recordings we needed. Do you need to do your thing, Malfoy?” Ron asked, carefully, looking back and forth between the two men who were both red faced and panting.

Draco ran his hands over his face and let out a guttural sound of frustration.

“Fuck. I don’t- Yes, let me go do my ‘thing,’ he said, shooting a dark look at Weasley and Potter both.

“Let me see if there are any other clues in the-” Harry started.

“No. I want you to stay as far away from me and this blasted object as possible. In fact, go take a portkey to Shetland, maybe that will keep you from fucking this up further!” Draco stalked off back into the shop.

Harry flexed his hands into fists and relaxed them, using every ounce of self-restraint to not follow the man and start this fight back up. 

“What the hell was that about?” Ron looked at Harry with raised eyebrows.

Harry looked at his friend and sighed, “I need to tell you something, but can you not tell Robards just yet?”

Ron’s eyebrows raised even further. “Erm- okay.”

“Two days ago, well not two days ago, but today, two times ago... this is hard to explain.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Malfoy and I are caught in some sort of a time loop.”

“What?”

“We already have been out here, on this case, and we got in an argument and the object got accidentally set off while we were arguing and we are now in a loop.”

“What do you mean the object got ‘set off’?” Ron asked, eyes wide.

“It got, erm- accidentally touched and a light shot out of it and swirled around Malfoy and me, but then Malfoy ran a whole bunch of diagnostics on both of us and nothing happened, so we thought it was fine. But, the next day I woke up and it was still today, so we thought maybe it was an illegal time turner and that we could just live out the rest of the repeated time and it would be fine, but then this morning... it restarted.” 

“Okay, hold on... let’s back up for a minute. If it were a time turner, wouldn’t you still be there? I mean old you from before you went back?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, but we weren’t there, when I woke up, it wasn’t like ‘old-me’ was also in bed. It was just me, restarting my day.”

“So, not a time-turner then?” 

“Erm- no, it doesn’t seem to be.”

“I think we need to go to St. Mungo’s, mate.” 

“No, I’ve already done that! The first day, when Robards found out about the whole thing, you took me to St. Mungo’s and everything checked out fine.”

“I already took you to St. Mungo’s?”

“Yes! And they ran all the tests and everything came back fine. I just need to work the case so I can fix this.”

“Okay... I believe you.” Ron did not sound like he believed him. “But I think we should still go back now that this... ‘loop’ has happened, maybe something has changed.” Ron said in the voice he used with his children to convince them to go to bed.

“Ron, if I could just look at the device and around the shop, maybe we could find something,” Harry replied.

“Can I ask just one question?” Ron asked carefully.

“What?”

“Assuming this actually happened for a minute, who accidentally touched the object?”

Harry felt his face flush. “I did. But Malfoy was being a git and arguing with me about who needed to look at the evidence first. I just accidentally brushed it with the side of my hand.”

Ron nodded like he thought that might be the case. “Okay. Why don’t we let Malfoy do his curse-breaking thing while we go get you checked out at the hospital?”

“Why do I have to go and he gets to stay and investigate?!”

“Well, for starters, he’s the actual cursebreaker.” Ron looked at him flatly. “Also—and I’m slightly irritated that you are being so unreasonable about Malfoy that I have to be the one defending him—but he has good reason to be ticked off at you right now. Plus, I still think we should get a second opinion at St. Mungo’s. Just this once and I’ll not bother you about it again.”

“Fine,” Harry reluctantly agreed. He knew Ron wasn’t wrong exactly, but he still hated the idea of letting Malfoy work this case alone.

Four hours later, Harry had been poked and prodded and tested and given more potions for testing.

“You are in perfect health, Mr. Potter,” the Healer said, while looking through her charts. “There’s no trace of any spellwork or curse on you.”

Harry gave Ron a pointed look.

“Right, I’m going back to the shop.” Harry jumped up and threw his Auror robe back on. Ron sighed and followed him out.

When they got back, most of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement support staff was gone, save for one patrolman ensuring the area was kept clear from non-essential personnel.

Malfoy was casting what looked to be an intricate series of spells over the object, thin threads of light interweaving over the object in a sort of dome.

Harry walked in slowly, looking around the space. He doubted Malfoy would let him get anywhere near the object, but maybe there were some other clues as to what it did or the original owner somewhere else on the scene. The shop owner wasn’t even sure if the object was from the estate sale items. He’d need to reinterview her.

“Oh, no. No, you don’t—out!” Malfoy pointed at the door.

“I’m not coming near you or the object! I still need to investigate this—there’s no telling what clues might be somewhere else in the shop.” Harry stood his ground, but he heard Ron sigh from just behind him.

“Absolutely not.” Malfoy crossed his arms.

“Malfoy, are you seriously telling me that you are going to get in the way of an Auror investigation because you are pissed off at me?”

“I’m saying that I don’t want  _ you _ anywhere near this investigation. Weasley is more than welcome to keep poking around and doing Auror stuff.” Malfoy dismissively waved his hand as he said the last part.

“Harry, why don’t we come back tomorrow? Malfoy will be done and we can look through the rest of the shop. We already got the initial recordings and interview that we needed—the rest of it can wait,” Ron said, looking exhausted by the two of them. 

Harry turned and looked at him in disbelief. “Tomorrow?”

“Oh, right,” Ron said.

Harry took a calming breath, turning back to Malfoy. “Have you at least figured anything out?”

“The tests are still running,” Malfoy grit out. “Just- I need you to just go. I’ll figure this out and you can be back to your perfect little saviour life in no time.”

“Fine.” Harry turned and stalked out of the shop.

Ron caught up with him outside. “Look, why don’t I finish up here and call it a day? I finished the interview with the shop owner this morning, forensics already got their photos. I’ll just make sure we didn’t miss anything and you can just head home and take it easy for the rest of the day.”

“Ron, you’re just going to have to do this all over again tomorrow anyway,” Harry huffed.

“Unless Malfoy manages to work it out. I think I’ll play it safe and still get my job done. And with Malfoy as pissed off at you as he is, I don’t think you can get anything more done here today. If you are still stuck in the loop tomorrow, you can always try something different,” Ron said as he turned and headed back into the shop.

Harry didn’t know what he could possibly do differently the following loop, other than  _ not  _ informing Ron about the situation. He wasn’t about to spend another half day in St. Mungo’s. But he had no idea how to work the case without getting into a full blown duel with Malfoy. He decided to head home for the day and try to figure out a new approach.

✦ ✦ ✦

As Harry and Ron walked through the shop door, Malfoy turned and crossed his arms.

“Malfoy,” Harry greeted him politely.

“I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want you anywhere near this object.”

“What are you talking about? We just got here,” Harry said, feigning ignorance. “Robards just assigned us the case.”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed. “What are you playing at, Potter?”

“Malfoy, come on. Let us do our job and we’ll let you do yours,” Ron said.

“As Potter has already set off this device once, I don’t think so.” Malfoy looked at Ron pointedly. “I want him off the crime scene.”

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked.

“This already went- we are stuck in some sort of a loop because Potter set off this device several days ago.” Malfoy crossed his arms. “You won’t remember, but he does.”

Ron looked at Harry, who just raised his eyebrows and asked, “Are you feeling alright?”

Malfoy looked livid. “You son of a-”

“I’m not sure what is going on, but I think we need to call Robards. Malfoy, maybe that object already did something to you? Confused you or something?” Ron asked.

“There is nothing wrong with me! And, whatever this object did when it got set off happened to both me and Potter!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. Why don’t we just some extra back-up in and we’ll take care of this,” Ron said in a soothing voice as he pulled out his wand. A second later before Malfoy could argue otherwise, Ron had sent off a patronus to the Ministry that Malfoy may have been compromised and they needed curse breaking backup.

Malfoy ran both hands through his hair and yelled, “Fuck!” He turned towards Harry. “You bastard! Now we’re going to lose an entire day of work because you’d rather be a prick about this whole thing.”

Harry kept his face neutral as Ron stepped in between them.

“Okay, Malfoy. Why don’t you take a seat and just relax and we’ll figure this out,” Ron kept his voice soothing as if he was talking to a small upset child, which seemed to be making Malfoy even more angry, his face now a dark red.

Within an hour, Ministry back-ups had arrived and Malfoy had been taken off to St. Mungo’s for tests. Harry suppressed a grin while he got to work, taking his time and looking for clues around the shop.

Harry eventually made his way over to the trunks and items from the estate sale. He removed his field bag from his pocket and unshrank it, pulling out a pair of protective gloves and wishing he’d just put the damn things on the minute he’d gotten to the scene the first time around. He normally only wore them when he knew he’d be handling evidence, but some extra precaution certainly would have saved him a lot of trouble this week.

Given what he already knew about the mystery object on the floor, Harry cast a few extra protective spells around the trunks and the area he was working before he opened them. There were three trunks, all sitting on the floor towards the back wall, lids open.

He peered in the first one. It looked like a lot of junk. He carefully started pulling out one object at a time and setting it on the floor. He cast a few standard spells and recorded a description of the object and the output from each of the spells. When he was about half way through the first trunk, he relaxed his shoulders slightly. Most everything in there was innocuous. He knew he couldn’t drop his guard, because there could be another powerful artifact buried anywhere, but at least most of the objects seemed safe.

By the end of the day, Harry had inventoried half of the estate sale items but had no luck in finding additional clues. He didn’t know if the estate sale was a dead end—the device could have been brought in with the thief. But, he had no other leads at the moment, so he’d thoroughly investigate this lead first. He still had two more trunks to go, which he’d have to do tomorrow... or the next loop. He was too tired to keep going and needed some dinner.

He wondered how Malfoy would respond during the next loop—Harry doubted he would try to convince Ron that Harry was involved again. Harry felt a smile creep up as he thought about Malfoy spending the day at St. Mungo’s being subjected to test after test. He didn’t care if it was a little petty, Malfoy deserved it.

✦ ✦ ✦

As Harry and Ron walked through the shop door, Malfoy turned and crossed his arms, looking as pissed off as he did when he had been hauled off to St. Mungo’s the day before.

“Malfoy,” Harry greeted him politely. “It’s been awhile.”

Malfoy looked back and forth between the two of them and opened his mouth as if to say something. Finally, Malfoy huffed. “Fine. Just stay away from the object while I’m working on it. I mean it, Potter, don’t come anywhere near this.”

Harry internally let out a whoop and turned towards the shopkeeper.

“What’s his deal today?” Ron asked under his breath.

“I told you he was the one always starting it,” Harry replied, unable to help himself, as he walked over to the shop owner.

“I’m Auror Potter and this is Auror Weasley, do you mind if we ask you a few questions, Mrs Harris” Harry asked as Ron and he both pulled out pads of parchment and self-inking quills.

“No, not at all,” the short witch replied, wringing her hands.

“You say you haven’t seen this item before?” Harry asked.

“No, but I had just gotten an excellent haul at an estate sale and I hadn’t sorted through it all yet. The family wanted to be rid of all the stuff, so I was able to purchase trunks and bags of items at one cost. Most of it was full of junk, but when I’d sifted through a little, I saw a couple artifacts and antiques that I knew would sell. Nothing huge, but I was sure I’d turn a profit on the lot even if most of it was trash,” she replied.

“Was there anything unusual in the trunks from when you glanced in them?”

“Not that I’ve seen so far, but like I said I hadn’t sorted through them all.”

“When you made the report to the Aurors, you claimed there was a cursed object left behind and requested a cursebreaker. How do you know it’s cursed?”

“Well, it must be cursed! I ran some tests on it—the type I normally run on charmed objects before I inventory and sell them, and the numbers came back off the charts. Have you ever seen anything with those levels before?” She asked, eyes wide. “I thought those levels were reserved for things hidden in the Ministry... you know, Unspeakable sort of stuff,” she dropped her voice to a whisper.

“Anything else you can tell us about the person who owned the items from the estate sale? The Wizard who died, that is.” Ron asked.

“Not really. I did some research on the family before heading out there, you know, to get a sense for whether they might have family heirlooms. They are a big mix of half-bloods, muggleborn and pureblood, so I wasn’t expecting any old family, pureblood-level antiques. The man, Malcolm Blight, was a bit of a recluse from what I could tell. He had been something of an academic in his younger days, ancient magical history or something like that, but he didn’t appear to be much of a collector. He’d taught at different institutions around the world from what I could gather. There wasn’t much information on him, and I got the sense from his family that they didn’t know much about him either. The woman, I guess she would be his great-niece or something, said the last time she saw him was at a cousin’s wedding ten years ago.”

“Based on your readings and tests, is there anything more that you might be able to tell us about the object?” Harry asked.

Mrs Harris glanced back at the object where Malfoy was still casting furiously. “The leather straps look handmade, but the stone, no I’ve never seen anything quite like it. I’m not even sure what it’s made of. And the tests couldn’t tell me anything other than it was a D-5.” She shuddered as she spoke.

“And you told Auror Smith that you didn’t know if anything had been stolen?” Ron asked.

“No—nothing that was already inventoried was missing. The estate sale trunks were open and look like they’d been rifled through. All the items that were on the floor when I got here weren’t from my inventoried collection, so I can only assume they came from the trunks. Do you think something happened to the thief? Do you think the object killed him?” she asked with wide eyes.

“We don’t know, Mrs Harris,” Harry replied.

“If you think of anything else, please let us know.” Ron handed her a card.

They stepped off to the side to compare notes.

“What do you think?” Ron asked.

“I think we’ll need to find out what Malfoy figures out, and I’d like to look through the rest of those trunks,” Harry replied. “Why don’t you talk to Malfoy and I’ll see if I can find any other clues as to what this might be.”

Ron nodded and walked towards Malfoy and the object, now covered in a spiderweb of spellwork, all different coloured threads. Harry hoped Ron might be able to get something out of him, anything really on this object. He doubted Malfoy would tell Ron anything about what they’d already figured out based on their current predicament, but maybe he had figured something else out about it.

Harry made his way back to the estate sale items, starting with the trunks he hadn’t inventoried during the previous loop.

Two hours later, he’d pulled all the objects out and was sweaty and covered in dust. Nothing else in there read anything above a D-2, which was pretty basic charm-work and most of it was just junk, not charmed or cursed in the slightest.

As he finished up his notations, he went back to a thick leather journal he’d found. He’d quickly flipped through it when he first pulled it out, but hadn’t understood a word of it.

Now that he was done inventorying the rest of the items, he wanted to give it another look. It was written in a language he’d never seen before. He thought it looked a little like a Middle Eastern script, but more slanted. He couldn’t discount that it wasn’t a magical creature language either. He’d had enough conversations with Hermione about the topic to know he didn’t really know much about Magilinguistics at all. He wondered if he’d be able to bring her in on this. The MLE department often had to liaise with the Department of Mysteries, but they often didn’t get to choose who they worked with from the department.

Given the language element, though, he hoped they’d send Hermione. After years of working with magical creatures in the Ministry, she had become somewhat of an expert on several magical languages. Eventually, she was recruited by the Department of Mysteries and given free reign to continue her studies all over the globe. She wasn’t allowed to talk about her work, mostly, but from what Harry could gather she was allowed to continue to work as a mediator and work on magical creature rights throughout the Ministry as long as she also worked the cases the Department of Mysteries needed her on. She still kept a solid home base in England, particularly now that her and Ron had two small children, but she occasionally was called out for difficult cases elsewhere when a Magilinguist was needed.

Harry sat down on a small stool by the trunks with a sigh and pushed his glasses up with his forearm, careful to not touch his face with his gloved hands or the journal.

Harry looked back at the journal and continued to flip through it, as he got towards the middle, there were some sketches. Mostly they just looked like odd shapes—nothing that looked familiar to Harry. He turned another page and his heart jumped. In the middle of the page was a sketch of an oblong shape with what appeared to be a rod going through it. There were sketches of the object from several perspectives and angles, all with jotted down lines and notes around them—none decipherable to Harry.

He thought about taking the journal to Malfoy, but then thought Malfoy was likely to hex him if he came too close after what Harry had done yesterday. Harry would need to find a way to get to the journal quickly the following loop and then figure out how to get someone who could translate it on board.

“Got anything?” Ron asked as he walked over.

“A journal, but I don’t know what language it is.” Harry opened it up to show him, and Ron leaned over to get a closer look. “Malfoy find anything?”

Harry put the journal with the rest of the evidence going back to the Ministry, filling out a tag for it, knowing full well it would be back in the trunk come morning.

“No, and he is stressed. I’ve never seen him like this. I mean, he’s always a bit prickly about any case, but he’s is properly upset about this one. Wouldn’t give me any information either, just kept saying he didn’t know and to stop bothering him so that he could work.” Ron gave Harry a look of exasperation. “I have a feeling this isn’t going to be an open and close case, mate.”

Harry sighed and bit back the hysterical laughter he felt trying to escape.

Great, he thought. If Malfoy, who was the curse breaker, couldn’t figure anything out, they were definitely in trouble. It wasn’t like they could call Bill in for backup—they had an exactly one day window to get any new information. Actually, Harry wasn’t even sure it was a full day as Malfoy had said something about going straight from drinking wine in the evening to waking up in the morning in bed. 

“Are you all done?” Harry asked Ron.

“Yeah. Let’s go. There’s nothing here that has to be dealt with at the moment. The MLE patrolman said he’d stick around until Malfoy is done with whatever he is doing over there and make sure the site is heavily warded. Given the readings on the object, they’re gonna keep another patrolman onsite overnight as well,” Ron explained.

Harry nodded, knowing none of it really mattered. He glanced over at Malfoy who was kneeling on the floor, bent over the object covered in spellwork threads and muttering under his breath. Looking more stressed than Harry had ever seen him with his hair was sticking up in several places, he worked frantically, and Harry felt a momentary pang of regret that he’d gotten him hauled off the day before. But then he remembered he wouldn’t have gotten any investigative work done if Malfoy had kept blocking him from the crime scene, and they wouldn’t have the journal. As he walked out the door to the shop, he felt the regret fade.

Harry said his goodbyes to Ron and then headed home, picking up some Indian takeaway on route.

As he got in the door of Grimmauld Place, he toed off his shoes and let out a long sigh. He had spent his wait at the takeaway restaurant contemplating his next move. He couldn’t get started on the journal first thing in the morning because he wouldn’t have gotten the case yet. He’d still need to go through the motions up until the point that Robards handed him the file. 

Harry grimaced slightly at the thought of yet another day of Ron’s dry scones. The worst part was he didn’t have any food in the house, so he would either need to continue eating the dry scones go hungry. He really should get better at keeping food in the house, he realized, but he was generally so busy with work that he often just ate on the go.

He plopped down on his sofa and dropped the food container onto the coffee table. As he opened the container and was hit with the aroma of spices from his Paneer Tikka Masala, he felt his body relax marginally. Some hot food and a few hours rest would do him some good. While he didn’t quite feel the panic Malfoy seemed to have all day, he was starting to get concerned about how long this was going to take to resolve. He ripped off a piece of naan and lamented that he hadn’t gotten stuck in a loop on a Saturday.

After he finished his last bite, Harry decided to do some planning. He  _ accioed _ a notebook and quill and started drafting out approaches. He couldn’t do much else for the evening, but maybe he could work out the fastest plan to getting someone from the Unspeakables to help him with the translation. In retrospect, he wondered if he should have just pocketed the journal. He could have taken it to Hermione that evening and had her look at it. It wasn’t like he was going to get in trouble for mishandling evidence, since he would no longer have it tomorrow.

After drafting out several plans and scratching them out, Harry sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, he just needed-

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up to the sound of the alarm on his wand and sat up startled. Shit.

He was just sitting on the couch and then he wasn’t. Sleeping through the reset had been far less disconcerting. That must have been what happened to Malfoy when he reset—going straight from drinking wine and reading to waking up in the morning. Falling back on his pillow with a huff, he tried to remember what time it had been last night; he wasn’t sure. It didn’t seem like it had been that late. After spending a few moments trying to figure out if he could guess at the time based on when he’d left the crime scene, he finally gave up. If Malfoy and he didn’t figure something out during this loop, he’d get another chance to figure out the time tonight, he supposed.

He still hadn’t worked out a plan for how to get Robards to quickly put an Unspeakable on the journal, but he figured he didn’t want to waste any time today and jumped up to get ready. He’d just have to get to the crime scene, get the journal, and take it from there.

Harry stepped out of the floo at the ministry. He only got three steps away from the floo before the witch in purple ran into him.

“Sorry,” she said as she hurried on her way.

Harry took a calming breath and closed his eyes. That was getting annoying. It also dawned on him how predictable his life must be that it took him exactly the same time to get ready and get to the ministry every single morning. He’d never paid it much attention before, but now that he thought about it, he always seemed to get to work at nearly the exact same time. Before this loop, he’d thought he was just being punctual, but now he was starting to feel a bit boring. With a sigh, he finished crossing the atrium, winding through the large statue, and made his way up to his desk.

Knowing he was in for dry scones for breakfast, he grabbed his mug off his desk and walked straight to the break area. As he waited for the kettle to heat up, he replayed the events in his head. He’d need to wait for Ron, eat a blasted mediocre dry scone if he wanted breakfast, wait for Robards to show up, and then they could head to the crime scene. Once there, he could let Ron take over the interview like the first day, and he’d head to the back are with the estate sale items. He wondered how long he should take to find the journal to not be suspicious. We’ll he supposed if he got it wrong there was always tomorrow... or today, again.

He sat back at his desk and waited for Ron.


	3. Chapter 3

“Try this,” Ron said as he shoved the container of scones under Harry’s nose.

Harry took a deep breath, stomach rumbling at the smell of the freshly baked goods even though he knew they weren’t going to be any good, and grabbed one of the dry scones. “Thanks, mate.”

“I think I got the texture right this time.”

Harry nodded and dunked the scone in his tea before taking a bite. It wasn’t quite as bad this way - he could at least manage to chew and swallow it. Harry checked his watch; along with working out the journal, he wanted to pay closer attention to when everything was happening this loop. A few minutes went by until Robards popped into view.

“Potter, Weasley. My office.”

Harry got up and followed Robards to his office, with Ron trailing behind.

“New case.”

Harry grabbed the file, but didn’t manage to get Ron out the door quick enough this time.

“Anything we should know?” Ron asked.

“Break-in and a cursed artifact. You’ll be working with Malfoy on this, so, Potter, I expect you to act like the professional this time.” Robards looked at Harry for a long second.

“Yes, sir.” Harry said and then walked out of the office.

As they walked through the ministry, Harry once again made a show of looking at the file. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to get a translator working on the case quickly, but he knew if he talked to Ron about what was really happening there was a chance he’d wind up back at St. Mungo’s, so he decided the less Ron and everyone else knew, the better. At least for now.

After he looked at it long enough to be believable, he handed the file over to Ron.

A few minutes later, they walked in the entrance to the shop. Malfoy looked up from his spellwork with a grimace and just nodded to Harry. Harry nodded back and felt that a cease-fire at this point was the best both of them could hope for.

“Why don’t you interview the shop owner while I take a look around?” Harry asked Ron.

“Sure.” Ron walked over to the shop owner on the side of the room.

Harry went straight back to the trunks, trying to not walk so fast as to raise suspicion. Malfoy was muttering spell after spell under his breath as Harry walked by, looking as distressed as ever.

As Harry reached the trunks, he pulled out and unshrunk his case bag, going straight for his gloves. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one was looking over at him—it wouldn’t be good to go straight for the one artifact he needed. He didn’t want to raise any suspicions and get derailed from his loose idea of a plan.

He pulled out a few items and placed them around the trunk and then grabbed the journal. He made a show of flipping through a few pages, and then walked over to Ron.

“I think I’ve got something here,” Harry said. “Do you recognize this language?”

“No, I’ve never seen anything like it,” Ron replied.

“Me neither. I’d like to see if I can get back to the Ministry and see if we can get someone to take a look at this language.”

“We still have a lot to do here before we start digging into any evidence, mate.”

“With the levels on that object, though, I’m thinking we should make it a priority,” Harry answered, hoping Ron wasn’t going to fight him on this the whole way.

“Did you talk to Malfoy yet? What does he have to say about it?” Ron looked towards Malfoy where he was hunched over the object much the same as the last few days.

Harry grimaced. “Yeah, I talked to him about it. He doesn’t know what it is yet, but is concerned.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He had talked to him about the object on more than one occasion already, just not that particular morning.

“Okay, well...” Ron trailed off looking at the journal.

“Let me just follow up on this. You can stay here and finish the initial casework, and I’ll let you know if anything comes of it, okay?” Harry tried to sound confident, hoping that Ron would just let him get on with it.

“Okay,” Ron said, still not sounding quite convinced.

Harry let out a breath and headed for the door.

Once in the Ministry, he made a bee line for Robards office.

Harry knocked on the door which was cracked open slightly.

“Enter.”

Harry stepped into the office. “Sorry to interrupt. I have a piece of evidence that we think might be critical for the Harris case, but it’s written in some sort of language that I don’t recognise. I’d like approval to bring in a Magilinguist or someone else with language-skills from the Department of Mysteries.”

Robards looked up at Harry with some curiosity. “Have you already gone through all the evidence at the scene?”

“Ron is still finishing up.”

“Let’s not jump too far ahead of ourselves here. Finish up the initial investigation and then we’ll see about getting a Magilinguist if it’s still necessary,” Robards replied.

“Sir, with all due respect, this object is reading off the charts and even Malfoy is concerned. I think we should follow up with any leads we have on this.”

“Potter, unless the object is in danger of setting itself off all on its own, follow procedure and it can wait until we have a more clear picture of what we are dealing with here. I’d like to read Malfoy’s report before we start bringing even more departments in on this.”

“But, sir-”

“If that’s all, I have a meeting to prepare for, Auror Potter,” Robards looked at Harry sternly.

“Understood. Thank you.” Harry held in a frustrated sigh as he left the office. He needed this looked at within the day. Unable to come up with a way to do this officially, he walked back to his desk and pulled out some parchment.

He scribbled out a quick note and tapped his wand on the parchment to send it off through the Ministry.

A few minutes later, Hermione popped her head in his cubicle. Stray curls were already escaping the messy bun on top of her head, a contrast to her neatly pressed nondescript black unspeakable robes. 

“What’s wrong, Harry?” she asked, sounding worried.

“I need you to look at something. I can’t explain the whole situation, but I just need you to trust me and look at this.” Harry handed her the journal. 

She took it from him and flipped through the first few pages.

“Do you recognize the language?” he asked, hopeful.

“It looks like Atlantic Mermish, but it’s not. It appears someone used Atlantic Mermish letters, but not the actual language.” She continued to flip through the pages, brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like... it would be like someone taking Greek letters, but just using them for the sounds and not actually for the language. Like writing out English words using Greek letters. But this doesn’t seem to be English either, so I’m not immediately recognizing what language they were translating the Mermish letters into. And it might not even be directly translated into a language - it could be a language in code that’s translated into Mermish. Where did you get this?” She finally looked up at him.

“It’s from an investigation I’m working on.”

“Harry, you need to go through the official channels for that. You know I can’t work on an investigation without it being approved by both of our departments.”

“I know, but this is—there’s a bit of a situation here that is hard to explain, but I need this translated today. By this evening, actually,” Harry said with a sigh.

Hermione’s eyebrows raised. “What is really going on here?”

Harry bit his lip. He had no idea how she was going to react to this. But, at this rate, this journal wasn’t getting translated today anyways. He decided to give the truth a shot and hope for the best. Worst case scenario, he’d have to try it another way tomorrow.

He quietly cast a  _ Muffliato _ around his cubicle and gestured to Ron’s chair. Hermione sat down, curiosity now clearly piqued.

“We’re doing an investigation on a shop that got broken into, and there’s an artifact that is reading at a D-5 power level on the scene.”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose at that.

“A few days ago...” Harry scrubbed his face, willing himself not to get into the brain melting semantics trap again about whether it was days ago or not. “I went to the shop and Malfoy and me got in an argument and I accidentally set off the device and now both of us are stuck in some sort of time loop. We’re in the fifth loop right now. We keep restarting the same day at the same time and then sometime in late evening the loop resets and whatever we’re doing at that time, we get sent right back to earlier that morning.”

“Do you think it’s some sort of time turner?” Hermione asked.

“No. Or at least not like the ones that used to exist. Malfoy and me are the only versions of ourselves in every loop,” Harry replied.

She nodded, looking thoughtful.

“What have you done so far?” she asked.

“Not much. We didn’t even know what happened, really, until the second loop. At first, we thought we’d just gone back like a time-turner, but then when it restarted again we realized there was a problem.”

“I assume Draco has continued to work on this from a curse-breaking angle. What has he found with his tests?”

“Erm- I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he doesn’t want me anywhere near the object, and we just wind up having a go at each other.”

“Harry,” Hermione started, sounding like the was trying for patience. “You’re going to have to work with him on this. You’ll need to find out what he’s tried so far.”

“He won’t talk to me, Hermione! I’ve tried. And, well now he really won’t because I may have gotten him stuck at St. Mungo’s for one of the loops because he wouldn’t let me investigate further,” Harry finished, a bit sheepishly.

Hermione dropped her head into her hands. “Harry,” she said, muffled through her hands.

“I know, I know. But, he wouldn’t let me anywhere near the crime scene!”

Hermione looked up with a slightly pitying look in her eyes. “You do realize that if what you are saying is true, you two are the only two that can actually work on this. You are the only ones that can retain information in this loop. So, if you don’t work together, you are going to wind up stuck in it for a lot longer.”

Harry sighed.

“Does he know about the journal?” she asked suddenly.

“Erm- no.”

She looked at him flatly. “I know you two still don’t get along. The whole Ministry knows you two still don’t get along frankly, but he is actually good at his job. You need to bring this to him and then maybe we can work through this. You don’t even know what pieces might be missing! I’m not going to work with you until he’s here too.”

“Hermione, come on. What if he refuses?”

“Then you will have to find a way to get him to work with you. This will probably be good for both of you, actually.” She said firmly. “This ridiculous feud has gone on for far too long. He more than made his amends with everyone years ago, and in case you haven’t noticed, you are both professionals, and you need to stop regressing into hormonal teenagers every time you get near each other.”

“He didn’t make his amends with me,” Harry grumbled.

“Yes, well I can’t imagine why that might be. Anyway, as I said, find a way to work with him and I’ll help you.”

“You won’t even know you said that tomorrow anyway,” Harry retorted.

“You don’t think I’ll come to the same logical conclusion more than one day in a row?” she asked.

Harry thought about it and realized she was likely to do exactly that. “Fine. For all the good it’ll do, I will find a way to get the bastard to work with me.”

“That’s the spirit!” she said with a grin.

Harry gave her a withering stare. “Okay, hopefully I’ll be back here in a few with Malfoy in tow.”

Harry entered the shop and saw Malfoy in the same position as always, kneeled over the artifact, casting spells quietly under his breath, looking harried. Ron was at the back of the shop, hunched over the trunks. Harry slowly walked over to Malfoy.

“Er- Malfoy?”

Malfoy looked up; his eyes looked bloodshot, as if he hadn’t been blinking enough.

“What do you want?”

“I found something I think you should see.” Harry handed him the journal.

Malfoy took the journal and started flipping through the pages.

“There’s a sketch a ways back,” Harry explained.

Malfoy flipped through faster until he got to the sketches. “This looks like the object. Did you work out what it says?”

“No. Only that the letters are Atlantic Mermish, but that’s not the language. Hermione will work with us on it, but she wants both of us there so that we aren’t missing anything.”

Malfoy nodded and stood up, stretching his body slowly.

“Do you- did you figure anything out here?” Harry asked, hesitantly, unsure if that would start another fight.

Malfoy just sighed, looking exhausted. “No. The problem is that it’s not a curse. I’ve tried everything to suss out what kind of magic is at work here, and all I can figure out is that it  _ is _ magic, which isn’t telling me anything at all.”

“I think we should head back to the Ministry. If this book can tell us something, it might be our best chance then.”

“Okay. I’m willing to try anything at this point,” Malfoy replied.

Harry glanced quickly at Ron to make sure he was still occupied and nodded towards the door. It would take more time than they had left in the day to explain this whole situation to him again.

By the time they reached the Ministry, it was already late afternoon. Harry still didn’t know how much time they had before the reset each day.

“Do you know what time the loop restarts?” he asked.

“Sunset,” Malfoy answered immediately.

“Sunset? Huh.” Harry wondered if that information might help them narrow down the type of magic used.

“I’m pretty sure the window is from sunrise to sunset, but I’m always asleep during the restart, so I can’t test the theory.”

“Okay. Thanks- I slept through both the start and reset for the first couple loops, so I didn’t know,” Harry explained, wondering if that would get some sort of a snarky retort from the other man.

Malfoy simply nodded. He looked like all the fight had been drained out of him over the past week. The lack of emotion in his interactions was making Harry feel unsettled; he wasn’t sure what to do with a Malfoy that had no fight left in him. Harry bit his lip and tried to push down some of the guilt bubbling up in his gut. He may not have liked the git but he didn’t want to actually break him.

They entered the lift and Harry hesitated over the buttons.

“I don’t think we can get to Hermione’s office directly because we won’t have clearance. We could go to my desk and send a memo for her to meet us.”

“I have an office. Let’s meet there so we have more privacy,” Draco said, pressing the button for Level 2.

“Okay, thanks,” Harry replied, trying to stay on his best behavior.

They were the only ones in the lift and rode in uncomfortable silence for the rest of the way. Eventually the voice announced their level, and they exited the lift. Harry had never been to Malfoy’s office and only knew the vague direction of his department, never having had cause to spend much time in it, so he let Malfoy take the lead.

Fortunately, the halls were fairly empty and they didn’t run into anyone who might question what they were doing there or notice the oddity of them doing anything together that didn’t involve hexing. After a few turns, they arrived at a small, dark office and Malfoy gestured him in.

Malfoy sat down at his desk and wrote up a quick note and sent the memo on its way. He closed the door with a flick of his wand and looked at Harry.

“Take a seat, Potter. I’m not going to hex you.”

Harry nodded and sat down at the chair across from the desk.

“Look- Malfoy, I’m sorry about setting off the object,” Harry said after a few moments of silence. Seeing Malfoy so exhausted and defeated looking was bothering Harry more than he was comfortable with.

Malfoy huffed and ran a hand through his already messy hair. “Let’s just figure this out so we can finally get to Tuesday in this blasted week.”

Harry laughed abruptly. “Oh Merlin, I hadn’t even realized that it’s still Monday.”

Malfoy let out a small smile and pulled out some parchment, apparently getting some work done while they waited. Harry looked around the office trying to distract himself from the awkward silence. There was a tall bookshelf to the right of him, filled with books on curse breaking, a few old worn tomes that looked to be on very dark magic. They reminded Harry of some of the books he’d cleared out of Grimmauld Place after the war, and he had to suppress a shiver. The rest of the office looked fairly standard grade Ministry, if not a little run down, with cream coloured walls and plain wood furniture that looked to be a few decades old. Without an enchanted window, the only light was coming from a couple sconces on the walls, giving the small room a more depressed feel. While the a real office and the privacy it afforded would have been nice, Harry was glad for his well-lit cubicle in comparison. The more he looked around, the more he wondered if they’d shoved Malfoy in a disused storage room. 

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Malfoy put up a hand for Harry to wait and cracked the door open.

“Oh good,” he said and then opened the door fully.

Hermione entered, arms full of books that looked to be on Mermish and code-breaking.

“I’ve done some preliminary research, but I’ll need to look more closely at the journal first. Can you both fill me in on everything you know so far?” She sat down in the chair Malfoy had levitated over from the corner of his office.

Harry first repeated everything he knew from the interview and the crime scene. Then, Malfoy filled her in on his tests that he’d been running for days, but that only lead to one dead end and then another. His frustration was evident as he gave her lists of things he knew it wasn’t, but without any clue as to even the type of magic at work with the artifact. She asked several follow up questions as he filled her in.

Hermione jotted down a few things in her notebook. “Based on your findings, then, I think translating this journal is our best bet. Normally, I would just take the journal and work on it, but chances are this will take more than one day, and if what you are saying is correct, I won’t remember we even had this conversation the next time the loop resets. I’ve been thinking about the best way to do this and I think the only way forward will require that both of you work on this with me and remember any progress we make. If I can figure out what languages or code are at play today, you can tell me that first thing in the morning and then we’ll be able to move on to the next step, does that make sense?”

Malfoy and Harry both nodded in agreement. Harry was happy to have any way forward at this point, and he imagined Malfoy felt the same as this was now their fifth loop and sixth Monday.

“I’ve also been thinking about how to waste the least amount of time in the mornings. We need to be able to figure out how to get to work earlier than this in the future. Draco, do you know the time of start and reset of the loop?”

“I don’t know what time it starts, but the reset is at sunset, which is 9:20 pm tonight. The start time might be sunrise, but I have no way of testing that because I’m always asleep during the time and I can’t very well set an alarm for any earlier because I didn’t during the initial morning.”

“Right,” Hermione replied, looking thoughtful. “Well unfortunately, then we’ll just have to work with the window between when you two wake up and sunset then. I think during the next loop you both should come straight to the Auror department together and explain the situation. Fortunately, since it is affecting both of you, I believe people will be more likely to believe it. Also...” A smile quirked up on her lips. “If you two come in both agreeing on anything, I think that will also work to your advantage.”

Draco huffed besides Harry.

“So, you want us to try to convince Robards to bring you in on this first thing in the morning?” Harry asked.

“I think that would be best. Otherwise, you’ll have to go through the motions every morning and we’ll be losing precious time. And, I’d say we could just skip filling people in on this, but I’ll need departmental resources and I fear it will cause too many questions and derail us further.”

“And what if he doesn’t believe us?” Harry asked.

“Well then we’ll try something different during the next loop won’t we? Now let me see that journal, and let’s see what we can figure out.”

For the next few hours, Harry and Draco sat in the office waiting for Hermione to work out the code as she muttered to herself. They’d both offered to help on separate occasions, but she asked them to just let her work and she’d keep them updated at she went. At some point Harry went to the Ministry canteen to get lunch and bring back a sandwich for Hermione, but mostly he just sat there and tried to be patient. After the third hour, he decided watching someone else doing book research was far worse than doing it himself.

So far, the only information she’d provided them was what she had figured out the code wasn’t, but she insisted they needed to remember all of that or she’d wind up going through the same process the following loop. Harry kept an eye on his watch; it was a quarter after nine.

“Hermione, sorry to interrupt, but we’ve only got a few minutes left. Is there anything else you need us to know before the loops resets?” Harry finally asked.

She sighed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Not really. I don’t think it’s a code in Atlantic Mermish, though.” She tapped her finger on one of the books, as if trying to process something. “I’m leaning towards the theory that it’s another magical creature language being scribed with the Atlantic Mermish alphabet, so just tell me that tomorrow and I can start scribing the sounds in our alphabet—that might give me a better idea of what I’m looking at once I get it out of the Mermish script. I think that hasn’t been helping my brain decipher it because I want to read it in Mermish, so if we can just-”

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up to the sound of the alarm on his wand and sighed deeply. This was getting really old.

He forced himself out of bed and went about his morning routine, realizing he’d never worked out with Malfoy when or how they were meeting in the morning. He knew where his office was, so he decided to head straight there.

Just as he was about to step into the floo, he checked the time. Harry wasn’t sure if he’d taken the same time getting ready during this morning, but he eventually was going to work out a time that he could leave that didn’t involve being run into first thing in the morning. It was 7:52 am.

He stepped through the floo to the Ministry. As soon as he stepped away from the large hearth, he was run into by the witch in the purple robe.

“Sorry,” she said as she hurried on her way.

He sighed and checked the time again. Tomorrow, he’d leave a couple minutes later and be done with that.

When he got to the second floor, he immediately headed towards Malfoy’s office, hoping he’d be there. He saw the door was cracked and knocked gently.

“Come in.” Malfoy was sitting at his desk, looking slightly less distressed than the previous few days, although Harry realized he only saw him after he’d been at the crime scene working away. “Oh good. I was hoping you’d come here and I wouldn’t have to hunt you down at the crime scene again. Let’s go.”

Malfoy stood up and walked towards the door.

“Wait—don’t we want to work out what we’re going to say?” Harry asked as he walked quickly to keep up with Malfoy.

“We’re going to tell him what’s going on and get Hermione back here and get out of this bloody loop once and for all. What more is there to say?” Malfoy pushed through Robards’ slightly open door, not bothering to knock.

“Malfoy,” Robards said, looking surprised. “And, Potter? What are you two doing here?”

“We have a situation,” Malfoy replied. He sat down and immediately started explaining the situation, including, to Harry’s irritation, how Harry was the one to accidentally set off the device. Robards narrowed his eyes at Harry during this part of the story, and Harry felt his face flush in embarrassment, but kept his mouth shut.

Once Malfoy was done, Robards took a deep breath and looked back and forth between the two of them.

“Alright. First thing, we need to get you both to St. Mungo’s. We don’t actually know what that device did, so I want a full panel on both of you. Then, I’ll work on talking to the Department of Mysteries and seeing if we can get Granger over here.”

“What?” “No!” Harry and Draco both started at the same time.

“Sir, we’ve both already been to St. Mungo’s and checked out,” Harry said, emphatically.

“Potter, you know protocol. If you don’t go willingly, I will call in reinforcements. In fact-” Robards stuck his head out the door. “Weasley!” he bellowed.

Harry buried his face in his hands, and he heard a disgruntled huff come from Malfoy.

Ron popped in the door a few seconds later, looking back and forth between the three of them in confusion.

“I need you to make sure both Potter and Malfoy get to St. Mungo’s and have a full panel done. They’ve both been subjected to potentially dangerous magic, possibly a curse.”

Ron’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Yes, sir.”

Harry and Malfoy both stood up with equal expressions of anger and frustration, but followed Ron out the door and through the Ministry. Harry explained the short version of events to Ron en route.

Two hours later, after a long wait since they weren’t “high priority cases,” Harry and Malfoy both sat on hospital beds next to each other with healers and nurses poking and prodding them with wands and running all sorts of tests. Malfoy looked like he was contemplating murder, and Harry was pretty sure at that point he’d help him hide the bodies.

Once they were done and Harry and Malfoy were told to stay put while they looked over their results and conferred with one another, Harry laid down on the stiff and uncomfortable bed with a sigh. He hoped they’d get out of there early enough to get anything done for this loop. After ensuring the two men would stay put for the rest of their required tests, Ron had left to collect evidence at the crime scene, even though both Malfoy and Harry had insisted it would matter.

“Well this plan sucked.” Malfoy said.

Harry bit back a laugh, unable to even defend Hermione’s plan after spending yet another several hours in the hospital. “Yeah, we’ll need a new one for tomorrow.” He heard Malfoy sigh, probably reminded of yet another loop waiting for them in the morning.

Eventually an elderly healer came back in the room and declared them both in perfect health and told them they were free to go. Harry wanted to scream; he could have told them that hours ago. With a huff, Harry got up and put his Auror robes back on over his jeans and t-shirt.

“Glad to see the Aurors have a professional dress code,” Malfoy retorted while Harry buttoned himself back up.

“It’s not like anyone gets to see what’s under my robes,” Harry replied.

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at that.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Harry huffed and stalked through the door. Malfoy followed, still smiling. “Oh shut up,” Harry said as they headed towards the main doors.

“You are far too easy to wind up, you know.” Malfoy said, holding the door open for Harry.

Harry looked at him for a moment as he walked past. “It’s really just you, you know.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, looking surprised at the confession. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

“I have no idea,” Harry replied.

A few minutes later, they were back in Robards office, trying to express the urgency of the situation.

“Alright. I got the report from St. Mungo’s and I contacted the Department of Mysteries. You’re set up in conference room B to work with Granger on translating the journal.”

Harry and Malfoy both nodded and said their thanks and headed to the conference room.

“Crap,” Harry said suddenly.

“What?” Malfoy stopped.

“The journal- we don’t have it yet,” Harry replied.

Malfoy ran a hand through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Just go wait for Hermione and explain the situation and I’ll go get the journal.” Harry quickly made his way towards the lifts.

Half an hour later, Harry walked through the Ministry quickly, journal in hand. He checked his watch; it was already 2:30 pm. They’d lost the better part of the day already. And, he was hungry—like most of the loops so far, he’d completely missed lunch and was subsisting off overly dry scones. He wasn’t about to lose any more time today, though. He grit his teeth and made his way to the conference room, hoping Malfoy had already filled Hermione in on what they’d figured out.

When he arrived, Hermione was listening to Malfoy with interest.

“Thank Merlin, we can finally get on with this,” Malfoy huffed as Harry entered the room, closing the door softly behind him. He handed Hermione the journal.

“Did you already fill her in on what she figured out yesterday?” Harry asked.

“No, I sat here chatting about the weather, Potter.”

Harry looked at him flatly, and Hermione cleared her throat. “Why don’t you two give me a minute to familiarise myself with the journal? Do you want to get tea or anything?”

“I’m famished actually, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get some food while you get started,” Malfoy replied.

“I’ve hardly eaten today either.”

“Why don’t you both go down to the canteen and get a late lunch and I’ll start working - there will be plenty of time to fill you in on what I’ve worked out when you get back,” Hermione offered, spreading out some parchment and books in front of her.

Harry nodded and quickly headed for the door, grateful to feel like they were making progress and also that he could take a break for a minute from worrying about it. Malfoy walked next to him in companionable silence as they headed towards the canteen on the Atrium level.

Once there, Harry grabbed a panini sandwich and tomato soup, paid for them and looked around at the seating options. Malfoy was already sitting with a large salad and tea, and Harry wondered if it was more weird to not sit with him or to sit with him. After a moment’s hesitation, he decided on the former and pulled up a seat across from him.

They ate in silence and got a few strange looks from Ministry workers that had worked with one or both of them before. To Harry’s embarrassment, their inability to get along and some of their less fine moments were well known throughout the Ministry. Well, he thought, if Malfoy managed to not kill him for getting them into this mess in the first place, maybe they could finally work through it. Shared traumatic event and all that. It had worked for Ron and Hermione back in first year after all.

Eventually, they finished and made their way back up to the conference room.

“Oh good, you’re back. I’ve got a few ideas.” Hermione said, looking up at them.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Malfoy said, sitting down.

“Whoever did this really didn’t want anyone to read these notes. It appears that the Mermish is representing Ancient Veela,” Hermione explained.

“Ancient Veela? I didn’t think the Veela had their own language,” Harry said.

“They don’t—not anymore, at least. The language has been dead for several millennia as Veelas took to using the language of Wizards and Muggles in whatever country or area of the world they were residing as they spread from Romania, eventually.”

“I don’t suppose you happen to know Ancient Veela?” Malfoy asked.

“Only the basics, but I’m not an expert by any means. I took a seminar in ancient languages at a Wizarding University in Rome several years back. There are only a couple Veela language experts in the world, none that I know personally, and I don’t think there would be any way to explain this situation and get someone here quickly enough. I have a basic working knowledge, though and with the right resources, I think I should be able to translate this—at least well enough for what we need,” Hermione said, sounding less confident than her words.

Harry sighed. “I don’t think we have any other options, so what do we need to do?”

Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Granger, best guess, how long do you think a translation like this will take?”

Hermione bit her lip. “If we only need to translate the page of the drawing maybe a day or two.”

“And if we need to translate more?” Malfoy asked.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Under a normal timeline, a translation like this could take months. Not only is it a dead language that not everything is known about, from what I can gather, it’s being used to describe things outside of Veela culture and possibly modern inventions, so the original translation into the language might have problems.”

Harry felt himself blanch at the thought and he heard Malfoy swear quietly under his breath.

“Where do we start?” Harry asked, feeling the full weight of the task ahead of them, possibly for the first time.

“I need to go get some books, and I think we should talk about how we’re going to go about this in the future. It’s already nearly 4 o’clock and we’re just getting started, which isn’t ideal.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but it was your plan from the last loop that landed us in St. Mungo’s for the better part of the morning,” Malfoy said, dryly.

“Oh. What did I suggest?”

Malfoy filled her in on how they went about talking to Robards first thing in the morning and Hermione nodded.

“Okay. Let’s try this then, why don’t you two send me a memo first thing and I’ll come with you to talk to Robards. I’d say we could just skip filling people in on this, but I’ll need departmental resources and I fear it will cause too many questions and derail us further.”

“You’ve said that before.” Harry sighed.

“Oh, have I?” She looked surprised. “How interesting.”

“So, tomorrow, or erm- the next loop, we’ll get you first and explain it to you and then you’ll explain it to Robards?” Harry clarified.

“I think that’s our best shot.”

“And what if we wind up back in St. Mungo’s?” Malfoy asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well then we’ll try something different during the next loop won’t we?” She replied.

Harry looked over at Malfoy who looked like he was barely keeping his frustration in check.

“Okay, we’ll try. Can we get started on this today?” Harry asked.

“Yes, I need some books for reference though and then I can keep notes- Oh, well and you two will need to memorize everything, do you think you’ll be able to memorize the Veela words as I decode them from the Mermish script or do you think we’ll need to translate to the English first before you’ll be able to retain it?”

Harry suddenly felt a creeping panic at the responsibility of memorizing everything Hermione translated, but Malfoy looked less concerned.

“What’s faster?” Malfoy asked.

“Probably if you can remember the Veela translation first, then we can translate it in large chunks. It might be more difficult this way though, for you that is.”

“I have memorized complex countercurses in several languages, Granger, let’s just get on with it,” Malfoy drawled.

“Right, let me get those reference books then.”

A short while later, Hermione returned with stacks of books in hand and they set to work.

Harry used every ounce of concentration he had to try to remember the words she was saying in the order she was saying them as she translated, but he knew it wasn’t working. Malfoy seemed undeterred though, so Harry didn’t let himself worry too much about it. After several hours, a yawn overtook him and he went to check his watch-

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up to the sound of the alarm on his wand.

“Here we go again,” he said to himself and dragged himself out of bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry went about his morning, getting ready and was about to step into the floo when he stopped himself and checked his watch. He didn’t care what else happened during this blasted loop, he was not getting run into again. He waited another minute before stepping into the floo.

As he walked towards the Atrium, he had to suppress a grin. It worked. Purple-robed witch was nowhere to be seen. 

Feeling like this loop was bound to be better, he made his way towards the giant statue with various scenes depicted of shared Wizarding and Magical Being history—both the good history and the less savory. Just as he made the last turn around the last curve through the statue, a harried looking Wizard bumped into him.

“Oh no! Oh, I’m so sorry,” The Wizard said, holding what was now a mostly empty paper coffee cup, the remains of which were now all over Harry’s robe.

Harry took a deep breath.

“Let me, here.” The Wizard started casting cleaning spells on Harry, and part of the coffee stain on his robe started smoking and smouldering. “Oh, oh no- sorry when I get nervous sometimes...” The Wizard started patting out the small fire on Harry’s chest in a panic.

“Just- stop. It’s fine.” Harry grabbed his hand and removed it from his robe. “It’s fine, I’ll fix it later.” He took a steadying breath and headed towards the lift, hoping this was not an omen for how this loop was going to go.

A few minutes later he knocked on Malfoy’s office door.

“Come in.”

Harry pushed in and Malfoy looked up from something he was writing.

“What happened to you?” he said looking at Harry’s robes.

Harry looked down and saw there was still quite a bit of coffee and now also a small burnt out patch. “Don’t ask.” He cast a cleaning charm at the rest of the coffee stain.

Malfoy looked far too amused, but didn’t say anything more.

“Ready to do this?” Malfoy asked.

“Sure, what can go wrong?” Harry asked as he flopped down in one of the chairs.

Malfoy tapped his wand on the parchment in front of him and sent it on its way, closing the door behind it with a flick of his wand.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Malfoy ushered Hermione in quickly and got her up to speed. Harry thanked all the power in the universe that he had an intelligent, logical friend who trusted him enough to believe this without much fuss.

They headed over to Robards office and let Hermione take the lead. After she’d explained the situation and how it was of the utmost importance to get started right away, Robards folded his hands together on his desk and appeared to be thinking for a moment.

“Alright. First thing, we need to get you both to St. Mungo’s. We don’t actually know what that device did, so I want a full panel on both of you. Then, you can work with Ms Granger on the journal,” Robards said.

“Absolutely not!” Malfoy snapped, finally losing his cool. Robards visibly flinched from the unexpected outburst and Harry had to bite his cheek to not laugh.

“Sir, we’ve been to the hospital five times between us. They are not going to find anything, and we are just going to waste another half day on this,” Harry explained.

“I agree with Harry,” Hermione said. “I trust that both of them are telling the truth on this and in order for us to make progress, it will be important that we don’t continue to do the same thing for loop after loop. We’ll need to trust them when they tell us what we’ve already tried.”

Robards took a deep breath and looked back and forth between the three of them. “Fine. Go work on this journal and report back to me later today. I will still have Weasley go out to the crime scene and see if he finds anything. You can use Conference Room B.”

“Thank you, sir.” Harry let out a relieved breath and ushered Malfoy and Hermione out the door before Robards changed his mind. “I’ll go get the journal and meet you guys back here.”

“Okay, I’ll need some books from my office too,” Hermione said.

“I’m going to make some tea, then. I’ll see you shortly.” Malfoy turned to the right and walked away from them.

“How are you doing?” Hermione asked Harry after Malfoy was out of sight.

Harry let out a small hysterical laugh and ran a hand through his hair. “I have no idea.”

“How many times have you done this? How many time loops, I mean.”

“Honestly, I’m losing track, maybe seven or eight? I have no way to keep track of it other than trying to remember.” Harry had never thought it would take that long, so he hadn’t been particularly worried about it. He’d had such confidence that they’d quickly solve the problem and this would be just another weird moment in the life of Harry Potter. Now, he felt his stomach drop at the thought of how long this might take. He’d never considered it before then.

Hermione put her hand on his arm. “We’ll figure this out.”

He nodded and headed towards the lifts, determined not to waste any more time.

When Harry got to the conference room, journal in hand, Hermione was already buried in books and Malfoy had procured tea and biscuits for all of them.

“Did you get her up to speed from yesterday? Or- erm, the last loop?”

“Potter, for fuck’s sake, I know what you mean when you say yesterday. You correct yourself every single time you say that and I actually cannot handle any more repetition in my life right now.” Malfoy said, voice edged with frustration.

Harry put up his hands. “Sorry.”

“And, well- we’re not sure about the ‘getting up to speed’ part,” Malfoy said with a slight cough.

“It seems that yesterday I suggested you try to remember Ancient Veela and I was going to translate it in chunks?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Harry replied.

“That might have been a mistake because if it’s not remembered exactly we’ll wind up with different words altogether, and so far... well, what we have so far doesn’t seem quite right,” Hermione said carefully.

After an awkward pause, Malfoy finally said, “I don’t suppose you remember what she said yesterday.” His cheeks were slightly flushed.

“Erm- no, I really didn’t retain any of it.” Harry didn’t add that he hadn’t really tried very hard because Malfoy had been so insistent that he could do it.

“Okay, well. I think we need to start over then.”

“Of course we do.” Malfoy sighed and took a long drink of his tea.

Harry pulled out the small pad of parchment he kept in his Auror robes for casework and set his quill to record everything automatically, determined to not miss anything this time.

“Potter, what are you doing?”

“Taking notes.”

“Why are you taking notes?” Malfoy asked with a sigh.

“What do you mean? So that we don’t have to retranslate the same section of text again tomorrow.”

“I want you to really think about this for a minute.” Malfoy said slowly.

Bristling at Malfoy’s patronising tone, Harry was about to retort when he realized what he meant—the notes wouldn’t be there when the loop restarted. Harry cleared his throat and put his quill and notebook away, unable to stop from glaring at Malfoy, just a little, in the process.

“Right, then. Are we ready?” Hermione interrupted. Harry nodded, and the three of them set to work.

“‘Aharkah’ literally means a type of feathers, but in Ancient Veela it’s used to discuss someone’s Veela coloring, according to this text, so I’m not sure this is the right translation here. It can also mean decoration, so I think it might mean jewelry in this context,” Hermione said, as she flipped back and forth in one of her many reference books. They had started with the small amount of text on the page with the drawing, but so far it wasn’t making a whole lot of sense.

“Is it possible it has to do with the leather that was attached to the stone? I mean nothing else makes sense. Does Ancient Veela have a word for necklace or leather?” Malfoy asked, running his hand through his hair for possibly the hundredth time. It was now sticking up at several angles and Harry had to keep himself from staring too much. Somehow he found this messy version of Malfoy much more likeable. He seemed more human, less buttoned up.

“Harry?” Hermione asked.

“What?”

“I asked you if you needed a break. Why don’t you two go get some lunch at the canteen and bring me back something when you’re done. Honestly, you are both looking a little burnt out. I’m sure this has been absolutely exhausting for both of you.” She looked at them with pity.

“I just want to get out of this loop. I would work through the night if that were even an option,” Malfoy huffed.

“Well you’ll be more effective if you take a break.” Hermione looked at him pointedly.

“Fine.” Malfoy stood up. “You coming Potter?”

“Erm, yes.” Harry stood up and followed Malfoy out of the conference room, wondering if he had actually just invited him to join him.

When they got to the canteen and looked at the menu board, Malfoy let out a long sigh. “I hate tomato soup.”

“I had the panini the other day; it was pretty good,” Harry said.

Malfoy wrinkled his nose. “I think I’ll just have a salad again.”

After getting their food and paying, they found an empty table over by an enchanted window displaying a summer meadow. They ate in silence for awhile.

“Do you think this is going to work?” Harry finally asked.

Malfoy sighed. “I have no idea, but honestly the alternative is so terrifying that I refuse to even consider it.”

Harry nodded. It was becoming a much more real fear the longer this went on, and he was starting to understand why Malfoy had looked so harried those first few days. He realized Malfoy had always seen the possibility and had probably been panicking.

“I really am sorry about this,” Harry said quietly, fiddling with his soup spoon.

“I know. Look, I’m not going to say it’s fine, because obviously this is not fucking fine, but I also know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Malfoy sat back in his chair and looked at Harry for a moment.

Harry nodded. He really hadn’t, but he also knew he’d been a right idiot that morning.

“You ready?” Malfoy stood up, his chair scraping on the floor.

As they walked back up, Harry was struck by how much he really didn’t know Malfoy at all, not after all those years. He was handling this with much more maturity than Harry had been, frankly. Realizing this, Harry felt even more guilty about how quick he’d been to anger over the past few years. Even as his friends and co-workers had explained how much the man had changed, Harry had refused to consider it. He snuck a glance at the other man, noticing even the differences he’d never paid attention to—the broadness of his shoulders, the loose and much more natural way he styled his hair, the slight lines around his eyes that might have been laugh lines. He wasn’t the boy Harry had known anymore, and he wondered why it had taken him so long to see this. 

When they got up to the conference room, Hermione had parchment tacked up over half the walls and was writing furiously on a piece on the table in front of her. Malfoy and Harry both froze at the sight.

“Come in, come in. I think I’ve worked out the rest of the page with the drawing.” Hermione blew a wayward curl out of her eyes and looked up at them.

Harry felt his heart leap, maybe they’d get out of this after all.

“So, what does it say?” Malfoy asked as they sat down.

“The notes all seem to be troubleshooting - it seems the owner was attempting to figure out how to send someone back further. And, it mentions something about a spell he’s considering using on the stone. Unfortunately, it doesn’t explain what the device is, the spell, or how to stop it. 

“I’m not sure, this is just a theory, but I think the owner of this journal was trying to alter the stone. I went back one additional page and at first glance, I don’t think it has what we need either. I’m really sorry, but I think we are going to have to go back to the beginning of this journal. It’s possible somewhere in there he wrote down something about when he first figured out how it worked. It seems that he’s well past that knowledge at the point that he did the sketches.” 

Harry felt panic rising in his chest and looked at Malfoy, who had his eyes closed and appeared to be trying to control his breathing.

“I know this sounds terrible, but this is actually a good thing. The author of the journal clearly knows how the device works. This would have been much worse if it was just an accidental discovery. There’s a very good chance that the information you need is in here.”

Malfoy looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown, so Harry tried to pull it together. “Okay. What do you need me to know? For the next loop? And how much more do you think we can manage today?”

Hermione nodded and gestured to him to come over to the notes on the wall. “Let’s go though what I found so far. I think it will be helpful if I, new loop me, that is, knows what I’ve already done and didn’t work.”

Harry nodded and put every once of concentration he had into her explanation, determined to not muck this up further.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up to the alarm on his wand. Just one day he wanted to have a lie in. Just once. He just needed a break, a day off.

He grabbed the pillow next to him and screamed into it at the top of his lungs. He had no idea how many loops it had been; at this point, he’d completely lost track.

He went about his morning routine and, determined to have just one morning where he wasn’t run into, he gave it another two minutes from the last time he’d left a little later. As he stepped through the floo, he took a steadying breath and thought about the progress they’d made. It wasn’t much, but they were getting slightly faster. Malfoy and he were both getting better at remembering the previously translated pages, even if they couldn’t help with the actual translation. So far, the author of the journal, probably Malcolm Blight, although they didn’t know that with any certainty, was still just searching for the stone. He’d mentioned that he knew of a stone of great power, but had been so frustratingly vague about the whole thing that it hadn’t given them any other avenues of research. So, they continued with the laborious translation.

Harry walked into the curving path of the statue in the Atrium deep in thought and as he turned slightly to the right along the curve, he was run into full bodily. He looked up to see the Wizard with the coffee standing in front of him, looking harried.

“Oh no! Oh, I’m so sorry,” The Wizard said, holding his mostly empty paper coffee cup. He’d somehow still managed to run into Harry about 30 feet down the path from their original location.

Harry looked down to see coffee once again all over his robes.

“Let me, here.” The Wizard raised his wand, but Harry quickly put up his hand.

“Stop. I’ve got it. It’s fine.” Harry said.

“Are you sure? I can help you clean it up. I’m so sorry. I must not have been looking at where I was going,” the Wizard said.

“It’s fine. Really.” Harry stepped around him and took a deep breath. It looked like he’d be trying another five minutes later tomorrow, or on the next loop, that was.

He cast some cleaning spells on himself as he got to the lift.

“Hiya Harry!” Ron slid onto the elevator just before the doors closed.

“Morning.”

“You should try these,” Ron said as he fumbled with the lid to the scone container. He finally got it open and Harry let go of the hope that Ron would just drop them on the floor and get him out of this.

“Erm- thanks.” Harry replied as he grabbed a scone. “I think I’ll wait and have this with some tea.”

“Are you sure? I want to hear what you think of this batch. I think I got the texture right this time,” Ron said so genuinely that Harry internally groaned. Even though he knew his friend wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow, he still didn’t have the heart to disappoint him. Harry knew how hard the past few years had been for Ron, with little ones that never slept and Hermione with her studies and high stress job. Baking seemed to have become somewhat of a lifeline for his friend—giving him something he could feel in control of.

Harry took a small bite and made a show of chewing for a moment, while Ron looked at him intently. Finally Harry made a pleased hum and nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak with the too dry bite still in his mouth. Eventually the lift made it to their level and Harry made a beeline for his desk and tea mug. As he got closer, he realized he couldn’t be there when Robards got to their desk or it would take him even longer to get to Malfoy’s office.

“Hey, I just remembered I needed to pick something up from accounting. I’ll be back in a few,” Harry said and made his exit before Ron could reply.

Harry tossed the rest of the scone in the nearest bin as he made his way down the hall. He had to dodge several more people with questions or who wanted to talk about their weekends before he finally made it to Malfoy’s office. He quickly ducked in and closed the door behind him.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” Malfoy was leaned back in his chair reading a book.

“Tried something different this morning.” Harry plopped down in a chair.

“I take it that it wasn’t an improvement?” Malfoy asked, looking amused.

“No, it was not.” Harry huffed. “Did you send for Hermione yet?”

“No. I had an idea, actually. Maybe we’re making this more complicated than it is. You know the one thing we haven’t done?” Malfoy asked.

“What?”

“We haven’t just gone back and touched the stone again. We were so scared of touching it again and something bad happening that we never even tried.”

“We never tried because we have no idea what that would do! What if it does something worse?” Harry asked.

“Something worse than living one day over and over again for the rest of eternity? A Monday, nonetheless.” Malfoy looked at him flatly.

“Alright, yes. The current situation is already bad.”

“Then it’s settled.” Malfoy popped up and headed out the door.

“Wait! Are you sure about this?” Harry jogged to catch up.

“Potter, how many days do you think we’ve been working at translating the journal so far?”

“I don’t know eight? nine?”

“Eleven. And, how far have we made it?” Malfoy entered a lift, and Harry tried to ignore the odd looks they were getting.

“Not very far.”

“I, for one, am not interested in several more months of this. Or, worse, forever.” Malfoy crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently as the lift made its way towards the Atrium.

Harry sighed. “Fine.”

A short time later they both stood in the middle of the shop, staring at the stone. A few MLE personnel milled about, but no one paid them any mind, most likely assuming they were both there officially.

“So you want to just touch it?” Harry asked.

“No. I want you to touch it.” Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

“Me? Why do I have to do it?”

“Because you are the one that set off this blasted thing the first time, so it stands to reason that your touch would turn it back off.”

Harry looked down at the stone, feeling a little nauseous. Malfoy’s reasoning made sense, but Harry still didn’t like it.

“Fine.” He dropped down to a crouch and slowly stuck out his hand towards the stone, moving slower and slower the closer he got to the stone.

“Just touch it!” Malfoy finally snapped.

Harry jumped and his finger closed the distance and brushed the stone.

He pulled his hand back quickly, readying himself in case it went completely wrong.

Nothing happened.

“Fuck!” Malfoy yelled, causing several Ministry personnel to jump.

Harry sat down and rested his hands on his knees, unsure if he was disappointed it didn’t work or relieved it didn’t kill them both.

Malfoy dropped to his knees and grabbed the leather necklace.

“Malfoy, wait-”

But it was too late, Malfoy was tapping on the stone and then spinning it on the rod, but still nothing happened. Malfoy stood back up and threw the stone back on the ground. A few people were now stopped, staring at them openly.

“Back to translating then?” Harry asked, looking up at Malfoy who had both hands in his hair and may have been pulling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Malfoy stalked out of the shop.

Harry sighed and stood up. He looked around, trying to wrack his brain to come up with any other possible solution or avenue they might take. After a minute, he still had nothing so he went back to the trunks and grabbed the journal, not bothering with his usual routine of not drawing attention to himself.

When he exited the shop, Malfoy was cursing non-stop as he kicked the brick exterior of the shop. Wizards and witches were clearly crossing the street to avoid coming near the display, openly staring and whispering.

“What?! Do you have something to say to me?” Malfoy yelled at one passerby who got too close.

“Okay, Malfoy. Why don’t we take a break? Do you want to get a cup of tea? Ice cream?” Harry asked in his most soothing voice.

“No. I do not want ice cream, Potter! I want to get out of this fucking loop!” Malfoy yelled. His hair was sticking up and his robes crooked. Harry had an overwhelming urge to comfort him, but he thought anything he might say at the moment was likely to have the opposite effect. 

“Okay. Back to the Ministry then?”

Malfoy didn’t respond, but started walking back towards the Leaky Cauldron. Harry hurried to catch up and kept quiet until they were back in Malfoy’s office waiting for Hermione.

They continued to make progress with the translation, but Malfoy’s mood was sour for the rest of the day.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry walked back to the conference room, journal in hand. After a few weeks of this, they were at least getting faster at convincing Robards to let them work on the device with Hermione. They’d only had one more mishap where they’d said the wrong thing and been escorted back at St. Mungo’s. Harry had been thoroughly impressed that Malfoy had not actually lost it and hexed the whole staff; it had been a near thing.

“Okay, so I think this word means to fix something,” Hermione said, looking between the journal and one of her reference books.

“What’s the word?” Malfoy asked.

“Intăarius.” She slid her notes over.

“No, it means to strengthen. It can mean fix in some instances, but in the journal, it generally means strengthen as the author has been using it,” Harry said as he sat down.

“I agree.” Malfoy nodded.

Hermione looked up at Harry like he’d grown an extra head and then between the two of them for a minute.

“How long have you two been doing this?”

“I have no idea anymore,” Harry replied.

“I lost count somewhere around day 23,” Malfoy answer with a sigh.

“That’s… terrible.” Hermione pressed her lips together.

Harry scrubbed his hands over his face and let out a small laugh. “Yes. That pretty much sums it up.”

“It has to be so weird. I’m sure it’s incredibly frustrating going through the same thing day after day, but still it would be interesting to live without consequences.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Well, I mean. You can do whatever you want, can’t you? Since you know the day is going to restart.”

Harry looked over at Malfoy, who also seemed to be having the same dawning realization.

“You know, Granger, thank you for your time, but I think I need a loop or two off.” Malfoy stood up. “You coming, Potter?”

Harry looked up, surprised that he was being invited, and then smiled. “Absolutely.”

Malfoy walked quickly down the hallway, appearing to have a clear destination in mind. “Okay. I need you to keep me from getting hexed too badly.”

“What?” Harry asked, suddenly a little concerned.

“Milton Reeves. He’s in my department and he’s a complete arsehole. He always finds subtle ways to bring up every mistake I’ve ever made... a little like you used to actually, except you weren’t so subtle,” Malfoy said, looking at Harry with a sardonic smile. “But, every single fucking morning of this loop, he questions my ability to take this case in front of the entire department.”

“Malfoy... what are you planning on doing?” Harry asked, now definitely concerned.

“Just some light hexing, nothing too terrible, Potter. Keep up.” Malfoy smiled broadly and quickened his pace for his department. Harry groaned and grabbed his wand, hoping this wouldn’t end with either of them seriously injured.

“Reeves!” Malfoy called out as a portly man was walking into an office.

“Malfoy, what do you want? Couldn’t figure out the case after all?” Reeves turned to him, doing a small double take as he saw Harry next to him, wand in hand.

Before Reeves could say another word, Malfoy had raised his wand and purple boils popped up all over the other man’s face.

“That is for this morning!”

Reeves yelped and tried to reach for his wand.

Malfoy cast a stinging hex at the man’s chest. “That is for every time you suggest I can’t do my job!”

Harry heard a yell come from beside them and raised a shield charm before anyone could intervene.

Malfoy swished his wand and tentacles burst out of the man’s head. “And that is for every time you bring up my past that I have spent over a decade trying to atone for!”

“Draco—what are you doing?” A younger Witch shrieked from down the hall.

“Don’t worry, I’m done here,” he announced and turned on heel. Harry followed him quickly, keeping an eye out for anyone who might try to stop them from leaving.

“That felt fucking amazing. Come on, Potter, I want to have a few words with Brinkley in accounting.” Malfoy smiled and headed towards the lift.

Harry spent the better part of the morning following Malfoy around the ministry as he told off, and, when he felt it was necessary, hexed everyone that had pissed him off over the last decade. When Harry finally saw a group of Aurors turning a corner, clearly looking for them, Harry grabbed Malfoy and forced him into a lift.

“Okay, I think we’ve had enough fun today.” Harry quickly pulled Malfoy out of the lift on the Atrium level a minute later. Malfoy looked happy and relaxed, his eyes bright with a huge grin on his face, and Harry found himself staring just a little too long as they walked towards the sculpture, wondering how he never noticed how attractive the other man was before that moment. 

“That was amazing. I highly recommend it. Tomorrow we can do you. Who do you hate in the building?” Malfoy asked, pulling Harry back into the moment. 

“I don’t really know that there's anyone I want to hex,” Harry replied, looking over his shoulder every few seconds as they walked through the Atrium and statue path towards the floos.

“Really, Potter? There’s no one you work with that you want to hex, even just a little?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

“Well up until a few weeks ago, it would have been you.” Harry said with a smile, hoping they could joke about it at this point.

“Ha. Ha. Well instead you got me caught in a blasted time loop, so I suppose you already got your revenge.”

Harry felt his gut twist.

“Oh, don’t get all bent out of shape. I was only joking. Let’s get lunch,” Malfoy said, as they got to the floo.

Harry saw Aurors coming out of the sculpture path, heading their way. “Sure, but might I suggest Muggle.”

Harry grabbed Malfoy by his robes and called out for the Leaky Cauldron. They quickly made their way out to Muggle London.

After a few blocks, Harry pulled off his Auror robes and shoved them in a bin. “Might want to lose those, Malfoy; we’re going to stand out otherwise.”

“Potter, do you have any idea how expensive these robes are?” Malfoy looked positively scandalised.

Harry just looked at him flatly, waiting for the realisation to click in.

“Oh, right,” Malfoy muttered, face flushing as he removed his robes and dumped them in the bin on top of Harry’s. He wore a simple white button-up and black slacks underneath that, to Harry’s relief, would blend in just fine with Muggles.

“What kind of food do you like anyway?” Harry asked, as they continued down the street. “Other than salads, that is.”

“I don’t particularly like salads, Potter. It’s just my only choice if I don’t want tomato soup or a messy sandwich since the canteen can’t seem to offer more than one option per day.”

“Is your only issue with the sandwich that it’s messy?” Harry asked, looking over at Malfoy.

Malfoy huffed. “I don’t particularly want gooey cheese and toppings dripping out of my lunch all over my robes.”

Harry bit back a laugh. “Okay, what would you suggest for less drippy lunch then? Since we’re out of the Ministry for once, we have options.”

“Do Muggles have pasta?”

Harry looked over at him to check that he was being serious. “One, yes, Muggles have pasta. Why wouldn’t they have pasta? And two, how is that _less_ messy?”

“Because you eat it with silverware! It’s much easier to control and it doesn’t drip down your hands and wind up on your cuffs, or worse _in your sleeves_!” Malfoy exclaimed.

Harry tried to contain his laughter but failed and snorted loudly.

“Oh, piss off. Maybe you should worry more about things like that. You’ve come in with coffee all over your robes at least a dozen times so far.” Malfoy stuck his chin out slightly.

“I didn’t spill the coffee on myself!” Harry laughed. “I keep getting run into in the morning!”

“Potter. You should know what time everything happens by now. How are you not avoiding this?”

“Originally, I was getting run into right after getting out of the floo by a witch in a purple robe. After about a week of that, I decided I’d try to leave later, but then coffee guy runs into me. Who not only spills his coffee on me every time, he then proceeds to try to clean it up himself which leads to my robe catching on fire. So then I tried to leave even later, and coffee guy still managed to run into me, just at a different point in the atrium.

“There is a surprisingly wide window where coffee guy will run into me at some point in the Atrium, actually. I can’t seem to get in any earlier without skipping a shower, so then I decided to try even later, but then I ran into Robards one day because I got in too late and I barely got away from him to get to your office. So, I’ve been trying to figure out if there is any possible second in my morning where I can get through the atrium without getting run into! So far, purple-robe witch seems like the least annoying option.”

Malfoy was laughing quite hard as Harry explained his morning. “Oh, that’s good. That makes me feel just a little better about my mornings.”

“Also, any day I see Ron, he gives me what must be the driest scone that has ever been baked to eat. But, as I have no food in my house, I eat it every time. What happens to you?”

“You mean other than Reeves insulting me in front of the whole department every single morning when I get assigned the case?” Malfoy looked at him wryly.

“Yes- your turn. I already told you my story.”

✦ ✦ ✦

_—Draco, Somewhere around loop 20—_

Draco slowly woke to the sound of the alarm on his wand and rolled over to turn it off. He scrubbed his face, feeling the identical stubble he woke with every morning. With a huff, he pulled himself out of bed and forced himself towards his bathroom.

He undressed, tossing his pajamas in the laundry bin and faced the shower, dreading the next five minutes of his life.

Of all the bloody days for his plumbing spells to go. During the first morning, he’d been standing there, enjoying a nice hot shower when suddenly freezing cold water shot out at him, pulling an undignified scream out of him that, thankfully, no one had been around to hear. Within a few seconds, the water went back to its proper spell-regulated temperature. He continued his shower, only to have it shoot out ice-cold water once again. Another three times this happened before he was able to fully wash, shampoo and condition his hair and jump out of the blasted shower.

On the first loop, when it happened again, he realised he had forgotten to firecall the plumber to repair the spell work and had yet another terrible shower, trying to get in and out as fast as possible.

On the second loop, now knowing this morning was on repeat, he’d went in with his wand, determined to fix the bloody thing. He waited for the freezing cold water and spelled the water warm, sighing in relief that it worked. Not a minute later, the water shifted temperatures and out shot scalding hot water, burning his chest and pulling yet another scream out of his lungs.

After looking up plumbing spells and trying several solutions, he finally resolved himself to a very fast, very terrible morning shower. If he was fast enough, he only got hit with the icy water three times, as opposed to the original five.

He took a fortifying breath, turned on the shower, jumped under the stream, and quickly got to work shampooing and conditioning his hair with lightening speed.

His body was completely tense waiting for the blast of freezing water. He’d nearly gotten the conditioner out of his hair when it hit, he yelped and jumped aside. Putting his hand back under the stream, he waited for the water to get warm again.

Once it had, he quickly jumped back under the stream, washing the conditioner out through the second shot of cold water, which only lasted a second or two. He then hurriedly washed his body and rinsed off, gritting his teeth through the final icy blast. The moment the soap was rinsed from his body, he turned off the spigot harder than necessary.

Muttering a stream of curses under his breath, he went back into his bedroom, towelled off, and dressed for the day.

A short time later, he exited the lifts on Level Two and headed towards the Curse Breaking and Dangerous Artifacts division. They were a small sub-department of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and had been unceremoniously shoved in a couple of back hallways on the second level. As he walked around a bank of cubicles with the support staff, he grit his teeth waiting for it. Three, two...

“Good morning, Mr Malfoy! How was your weekend? Mine was wonderful. I visited my sister who lives not far from Bristol. Have I told you about her dogs? She breeds the most beautiful Cocker Spaniels. She just had a new litter a few weeks ago and, oh! the pups were so adorable. They aren’t quite ready for adoption just yet, still need to stick close to their mum. People come from all over to get her pups; she does really well you know. We took several walks around her property—she has a lovely property-”

“That’s nice Edna,” Draco said, trying to edge away from her as she continued to regale him with stories about her weekend. She finally became distracted as Brian, a younger new charms expert-in-training walked into the department. She turned to him greeting him far too cheerfully for a Monday morning and re-started her story. Brian looked panicked and too afraid to try to stop her.

“I put my lunch in the break area, and it had better not get stolen again,” Carl said loudly as he walked towards his office. As he passed by Draco, he looked at him pointedly. Draco bristled, biting back a reply that he wouldn’t eat Carl’s disgusting leftover meatloaf if someone paid him.

“Alright, everyone, gather around.” Draco’s boss, Gary Alton, came striding into the open space between the offices and cubicles for their morning stand-up meeting. 

Alton had read some article that the curse breaking department at MACUSA had daily informal meetings, where everyone stood in an area of the office, every single morning to ensure that all personnel were kept up to speed on departmental cases and assignments. As the case assignments were already written on a large board and there were plenty of memos about existing cases, Draco had yet to figure out what could possibly be gained by standing around rehashing everything they already knew every single morning.

The stand-ups were annoying enough on a daily basis, but reliving the same meeting ad nauseum pushed Draco to his breaking point every single morning. Just the anticipation of standing through another meeting was enough to raise his blood pressure. 

Once everyone was somewhat in the same area, Alton started going through existing assignments, getting updates from the staff on all of the cases. After Milton Reeves, their departmental charms expert, was done with his update that involved not-so-subtly bragging about his work with a malfunctioning Quidditch field charm, Alton pulled out the parchment of new assignments.

Draco barely suppressed a sigh.

“Malfoy, we’ve got a new Auror case. Possible robbery, cursed object was found. According to the shop owner, who works with charmed objects and antiques, the object is reading at a level D-5.” Several eyebrows shot up at that as Alton handed Draco the case file.

“You’re putting Malfoy on this?” Reeves asked, his voice dripping with judgement, and Draco heard someone snort from the side of the room and a few other people looked like they agreed. He never did find out who the snort came from, even after all those loops.

Instead of defending him, Alton just replied, “Weasley’s still in South America.”

Draco grit his teeth and refrained from replying, as always. He kept his face neutral, trying to keep the bubbling anger at bay.

After ten years as a Ministry cursebreaker, he didn’t know why he was still surprised by the open hostility towards him. Every few months he considered just quitting and applying to Gringotts—he doubted the goblins would much care about his history. But he never did. He wasn’t entirely sure why. It wasn’t like he had friends or family keeping him there, his father passed away while serving a life sentence in Azkaban and his mother had passed away several years prior. Those days, he didn’t even have friends keeping him in England, his childhood friendships having long faded. It turned out friendships based on constant social posturing and maneuvering didn’t hold up well when one’s social status was obliterated.

Part of his desire to stay was undoubtedly that he hated the idea of people like Reeves winning, but another part of him just hated the idea of giving up the life he wanted. He knew that if he went to Gringotts, his job would involve a heavy amount of travel, and a small part of him still wanted to settle down.

He knew, logically, the chances of that happening were slim to none. When he thought about it in the harsh light of day, the idea that anyone would want to settle down with him, an ex-Death Eater, someone most people barely contained their hatred for, was laughable. But, late at night, when he thought of the life he wanted, a life shared with someone, he found he wasn’t ready to let it go. Perhaps someday, but for now he kept going to work, resolutely ignoring the jabs and insults about his ability to do his work or his ethics, and kept his head high. He’d never let them know how much they all got to him.

He managed to make it through the rest of the meeting without hexing his co-workers and headed to his office to wait for Potter. At least there was some small benefit to this blasted loop. Potter and he seemed to be developing a sort of cease-fire, actually getting along with one another for the first time ever. Maybe when the loop was over that would be one less person that would constantly suggest that Draco was incapable of doing his job.

Draco knew he should have apologized to Potter years before, while he was on his apology tour of everyone he’d ever mistreated or impacted during the war. It hadn’t been for show, regardless of what people like Reeves thought. 

After the harsh reality of the war, he’d spent several years painfully reconsidering everything he’d ever been taught, which inevitably led him to the realization of how very wrong he and his family had been. It took another year or two to get up the nerve to actually do anything about it, but once he started apologizing, he found he couldn’t stop. With every apology, he felt like he might be one step closer to becoming a new person—someone he didn’t have to be ashamed of. Every few months, he’d consider apologizing to Potter. Then he’d run into him in the Leaky Cauldron, or Gringotts, or Diagon Alley and feel the burn of Potter’s glare and feel his own rising temper that seemed ever present around the other man. Eventually, so much time had passed that it felt too late. Surely, Potter didn’t want to talk about the war ten years later, so Draco held his excuses close and never managed to make that last apology. 

There was no hatred left in Draco for Potter, though. Or anyone else, for that matter. Irritation, annoyance, sure, but Draco’s days of hatred were long past. But somehow, just being in the vicinity of Potter made his temper start to surface again, made his retorts a little sharper, his disposition a little meaner. He wasn’t proud of it, but he just didn’t know any other way to be around the other man. 

The loop, at least, was helpful on that front. The more time they spent together, the more at ease Draco felt, the more like his adult, mature self. He found himself making less cutting remarks, regretting less things said as he replayed their conversations in the evening.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair just as his door opened.

Potter walked in looking frazzled. His hair was a mess, although that was fairly normal, and his robes had a large coffee stain and what looked to be a burn hole in the front. Draco bit back a smile. He had no idea what Potter’s mornings looked like, but every time he saw that coffee stain he couldn’t help feeling a little better that the other man’s mornings might just be as terrible as his own.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry woke up from the alarm on his wand and stretched. After going to an Italian restaurant for lunch, they’d wandered around Muggle London for a few hours and then finally each headed home, agreeing to meet in the morning at Malfoy’s flat. Malfoy was insistent that Harry had to have something he wanted to do that he couldn’t normally do.

Harry padded downstairs to his study and scratched a quick note to Robards that he was sick and not coming in and another one to Ron. He didn’t want Ron trying to check on him.

“C’Mere Isla,” he said, voice still scratchy with sleep.

His small tawny owl flew over from her perch by the window that was still cracked open from last night’s hunt.

“Take these to the Ministry, please.” She nipped gently at his hand and flew off.

He felt a surprising amount of relief at the idea of not going to the Ministry again. He wasn’t sure how long they’d been stuck in the time loop but it had to have been well over a month since he’d had a day off. He just wanted to relax and pretend everything was normal for a day. Maybe go do some Muggle things around the city, places that no one would recognize them. He headed back upstairs to shower and get dressed, and then laughed to himself at the thought that spending the day with Malfoy was even remotely normal. And that he was looking forward to it might have been the strangest turn of events of all.

A short while later, he popped through the floo at Malfoy’s flat.

“Hello?” he called out.

“In here,” Malfoy called from the other room.

Harry followed the sound of his voice into a kitchen where Malfoy was standing by the hob, spatula in hand. Harry’s stomach grumbled at the smell of bacon filling the air.

“You cook?” Harry asked. It came out more disbelieving than he intended.

“Yes, I cook.” Malfoy looked over his shoulder, giving Harry a look. “Don’t look so surprised. I am a thirty-something Wizard living on my own, you know. Take a seat. I’m making us both breakfast.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Harry sat down, a bit dumbfounded by this turn of events. 

“Figured you could use a break from overly dry scones.” Malfoy grabbed a couple plates from a cupboard and started placing food on them. Then, plates in hand, he walked over to the table and placed one loaded with an omelette and toast in front of Harry and another at the spot in across from him. 

“Do you want tea?” Malfoy asked.

“Yes, please. Just a little sugar.”

Malfoy nodded and busied himself with the tea for a few minutes. Harry took a bite of his omelette and a moan escaped his lips. It had been ages since he’d had a decent breakfast. 

“What’s in this?” Harry asked.

“Brie, bacon and dried cherries,” Malfoy answered with a smile as he set down two mugs of steaming tea and sat down across from Harry.

“It’s brilliant.”

“Thank you.” A small flush creeped up Malfoy’s face; he cleared his throat. “So, Potter. Did you come up with someone to hex today?”

“What is it with you and the hexing?” Harry asked, with a laugh. “No, I don’t want to hex anyone at work.”

“How is that even possible? Everyone wants to hex someone at work!” Malfoy threw up his hands in exasperation.

“Well, I don’t. I honestly just want to have a normal day—like pretend none of this is happening for one day and go enjoy myself.”

“Oh, okay.” Malfoy cleared his throat quietly. “So, off to the Weasleys? Or some friends?”

“Oh, erm- no? I was thinking we could do something. If you want to, I mean.” Harry suddenly realized all the assumptions he’d made since that morning and busied himself with eating his breakfast. It wasn’t like they were friends—Malfoy certainly didn’t want to spend his day off with Harry just wandering around the city doing Muggle things.

“Okay.”

Harry looked up in surprise. “Yeah?”

“So what are these normal things you want to do?” Malfoy took a sip of his tea.

“Well, I was thinking about going to the cinema and see a movie.” Harry said, now feeling odd about the suggestion. It had seemed perfectly reasonable when he’d thought of it that morning.

“That’s a Muggle thing right?” Malfoy asked, sounding curious.

“Yeah, it’s like... it’s like a photograph, but instead of the people in it just moving a little bit a whole story is told through the photograph, with sound and everything.”

“Like a play?”

“Yes, exactly! Except it’s pre-recorded like a photo. So think of it like a photo of a play where you get to see and hear the whole play. And it’s a really large photo on a wall in a theatre,” Harry explained.

“Oh, okay. That makes sense, I suppose. What are these... er- ‘movies,’ you said?”

Harry nodded. “Movies or films—they’re called both.”

“What are these movies about?”

“Oh they can be about anything. We can go to the cinema and see what’s playing.”

“Alright.” Malfoy went back to eating his breakfast, and Harry ducked his head as he finished his breakfast, trying to hide the slight flush he could feel on his face, wondering why this suddenly felt like a date.

A while later they stood in front of the ticket booth looking at the early matinee showtimes.

“Okay, let’s see, I think a comedy might be difficult because you’d have to understand the Muggle references for it to be funny.  _ The Avengers _ is still out and I want to see that, but I think if you haven’t seen the other movies—it’s like a series—you wouldn’t understand it.”

“Is that ‘Prometheus’ the Greek god? I like mythology,” Draco offered.

“Erm- I think that’s more of a sci-fi film.” Harry went to the movies often enough and would have been fine with any of them, well, perhaps not  _ A Fantastic Fear of Everything _ —that hadn’t looked particularly good. But, given this was Malfoy’s first experience with a Muggle film, he felt a need to make sure they saw something he would also enjoy, and ideally something that was starting in the next half hour or so. “I’ve got it. This should work.”

Harry walked up to the counter. “Two for  _ We Bought a Zoo _ , please.”

As they walked through the lobby, tickets in hand, Harry quickly explained it was an American film and what Muggle zoos were. From the previews, he thought it likely the movie was just about the family and relationships, though, and that Malfoy would be able to follow along just fine.

“What’s that?” Malfoy whispered to him as they walked past concessions.

“Oh, you can get stuff to eat or drink during the movie. Popcorn and soft drinks and sweets are all traditional.”

Malfoy slowed to a stop. “Should we get some? You know, for the experience?”

Harry bit back a smile. “Sure.”

Several minutes, with Harry’s wallet many pounds lighter, they finally headed to their seats.

Malfoy gingerly picked up a single piece of popcorn and ate it, and Harry had to suppress a laugh.

“Just grab a small handful.”

“This is so salty.” Malfoy wrinkled his nose.

“That’s what the soft drink is for—pure sugar. It will balance it out.” Harry smiled, ripping open a package of sweets.

Malfoy took a sip and started coughing. “I didn’t realize it would be fizzy.”

Before Harry could reply, the lights started to dim. A very loud preview started, and he saw Malfoy tense up slightly next to him. Harry barely refrained from grabbing his hand to reassure him.

Instead, he leaned over and whispered, “These are just advertisements for upcoming films and then the movie will start.”

Malfoy nodded, not taking his eyes off the screen. Eventually, the film started and Malfoy looked over at him for confirmation; Harry nodded.

For the first few minutes, Harry kept sneaking glances to see how he was enjoying it, wanting Malfoy to have a good first experience, but eventually he found himself wrapped up in the plot.

“So, what did you think?” Harry asked a couple hours later as they walked out of the cinema, blinking his eyes and squinting as he adjusted to the daylight outside.

Malfoy didn’t answer right away and Harry looked over at him. “That man was a good father.” He looked deep in thought.

“Erm- yeah, he was.” Harry hadn’t even thought about how Malfoy might take the film, given he’d lost his father in Azkaban only a couple years prior. Malfoy had never talked to him about it, but he was aware of the incident through work and, of course, the news. Harry tried to think of what they might do next that was a little less emotionally charged.

“Can we see another film?” Malfoy asked suddenly.

“Oh. Erm- well I really want to see  _ The Avengers _ , but as I said earlier, I’m not sure you will understand without having watched the other films first.”

“Can we watch those then?”

“They aren’t in the cinemas anymore.”

“Oh.” Malfoy looked disappointed to Harry’s surprise.

“We can watch them at my house though. We can rent them on DVD—that’s a way to play films on a tv—and then watch them on my tv. Would you want to do that?”

“Yes!” Malfoy said a little too enthusiastically, and then cleared his throat. “I mean, that sounds fine.”

Harry looked to the side to hide his smile; he didn’t think Malfoy would appreciate how entertained Harry was by his reaction to all this. “Okay, why don’t we get a late lunch first? There are four movies, if we don’t include The Incredible Hulk, which I’d honestly rather just fill you in on than rewatch. And, I’ll need to explain a little backstory on superhero movies, I think.”

They found a falafel place a block away and Harry spent their entire lunch explaining how superhero stories worked. Malfoy accepted the Muggle technology explanations readily enough for some of the characters super powers, but got very caught up with the magical aspects.

“But doesn’t that just make them Wizards?”

“Well. Okay, this is hard to explain. Some of the characters in comic books are called Witches and Wizards, but it’s, you know, Muggle’s versions of those things. And the ones in this movie are all either from chemicals or technology. And one god from another planet.”

Malfoy sighed loudly. “I don’t understand, though. I thought Muggles didn’t believe in magic at all!”

“Well... I don’t know. I think some of them do, but most of them just like the idea of it, even if they think it’s fiction.”

Malfoy ran a hand through his hair, which Harry now knew meant that he was getting frustrated.

“Look, don’t think too hard about it,” Harry said with a laugh. “It’s just a film, yeah?”

“Whatever you say, Potter.”

“Ready?” Harry grabbed the tray littered with the wrappings and empty containers from their lunches and walked over to the waste bin.

The cinema hadn’t been far from Grimmauld Place, as it was Harry’s usual place, and the video rental store was only a few blocks from there, so they took a leisurely stroll to get the DVDs. Malfoy peppered him with questions the entire time. Fortunately, Harry was certain it would sound like Malfoy was just arguing about superhero movie logic to any Muggle passersby.

They spent the rest of the day watching Iron Man and Iron Man 2.

Upon realizing this type of film could be paused, Malfoy quickly demanded to be taught how to work the remote and paused every time he had a question. By what felt like the hundredth pause, Harry’s patience was running a bit thin, but Malfoy seemed to be enjoying himself so much that he couldn’t bring himself to complain.

As they wrapped up the second film, Malfoy sat back on the sofa, looking pensive. “These are interesting. So, now we can watch this Avengers movie tomorrow?”

“No, we still have two more films to get through, remember?”

“I thought you said we could get through them all today!”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “That was before you took control of the clicker.”

Malfoy looked at him confused and Harry pointed to the remote.

“Oh.” Malfoy looked sheepish for a split second before jutting out his chin defiantly. “Well I had questions.”

Harry laughed. “I noticed. It’s fine, we can just go back and rent them tomorrow. Do you- erm, do you want to just meet here? I’m afraid I don’t have any food in the house or I’d offer to cook you breakfast. Although, if you come later, I suppose I could do some shopping,” Harry offered.

“Why don’t we go out to breakfast? And then we can re-rent those films. How’s ten? I’d like to go back to sleep and have a lie in for just once.”

“Sounds perfect,” Harry said with a smile.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up to the sound of his alarm on his wand and turned it off.

Draco was going to floo over in a few hours. Since Harry had continued to keep Grimmauld Place under a fidelius, with himself as the secret keeper, the floo was open to anyone with the address. Given the gossip columnists habit of still following him around all those years later, and the occasional stalker, he found it easier this way. It was rare that he had anyone over, anyway, since he spent most of his time at work. 

He rolled over to go back to sleep when he realized he should probably let Robards and Ron know he wasn’t coming in before going back to sleep if he wanted to remain interrupted. He imagined Ron coming through the floo to check on him to find him watching superhero films with Malfoy and snorted a laugh.

Deciding he didn’t want to interrupt his day with that mess, regardless of how funny it might be, he padded downstairs to send a couple of quick notes off with Isla, and then burrowed back in bed, blissfully falling back to sleep.

“Potter!”

Harry opened his eyes, blinking a few times to clear the sleep.

“Huh?”

“Potter- are you here?”

Harry realized the voice was coming from downstairs and quickly pulled himself out of bed and jogged down the steps.

Malfoy was standing in his sitting room in front of the fireplace, hands on his hips. 

“I thought we were going to breakfast,” Malfoy huffed, his cheeks reddening slightly as his eyes travelled over Harry. Harry suddenly became very aware he’d run downstairs in only his boxer-briefs and felt his cheeks heating. 

Harry cleared his throat avoiding eye contact. “Erm- yeah, sorry. I went back to bed and just overslept. Give me just a minute.” Harry ran back upstairs. Casting a few hasty personal cleaning spells at himself, he threw on his nearest jeans and t-shirt. He then hopped around as he tried to get his socks on too quickly.

“Okay, all set,” he said, as he barrelled back down the stairs. “There’s a little breakfast cafe a couple blocks from here. It’s not too far from the video rental shop.” Harry stepped into his trainers and grabbed his muggle wallet from a cabinet in the sitting room.

“Lead the way.”

Malfoy followed Harry out to the street.

“If we don’t pause the movie too much, we might be able to get through them fast enough to get to a six o’clock matinee. Unless you think that might be too much for one day,” Harry said as they turned the corner at the end of the block.

“If it’s not too much for you, I can certainly handle it,” Malfoy responded.

Harry almost laughed at Malfoy getting competitive over movie watching, but then saw an opportunity. “If you need to pause the movies though, we’ll just have to see it tomorrow then. I understand if it’s too much at once.”

“It is not too much! I simply had some questions. I’ll not pause today, and we’ll go back to the cinema tonight,” Malfoy insisted.

Harry grabbed the door to the cafe and held it open, internally cheering at his small victory.

As it turned out, Malfoy made it just over twenty minutes before he needed to pause. “Why is he turning blue?”

“Just watch the movie! They will explain it.” Harry grabbed the pillow next to him on the sofa smacked him with it.

Malfoy grabbed the pillow and wrestled it from him. “Oh no, I’m keeping this now.” He tucked it in next to him with a laugh and started the movie back up.

Malfoy seemed to accept Harry’s suggestion and watched quietly. Other than huffing a bit and crossing his arms over his chest when Thor and his father argued, he managed to watch the rest of the film without much commentary or pausing. Harry realized he may need to reconsider films with father-son issues in the future. Then he wondered at the idea there would be future film watching with Malfoy. He supposed if the loop lasted long enough there probably would be. He felt a slight nausea creep over him as he remembered the seriousness of their current situation, but refused to ruin one of their only days off with worry. There was nothing he could do at the moment and they desperately needed a few loops off for both their sanities.

By the time they made it to the cinema, Malfoy had all sorts of opinions he continued to share with Harry about the franchise and the various characters, even going so far as to get into a debate with a Muggle in the concession line about which Avenger would win in a fight.

“Well, Potter. I have to admit, I enjoyed that quite a bit. Are there more of these superhero movies?” Malfoy asked as they walked out of the cinema later that evening.

“Not in this set of movies yet. There’s supposed to be more being made though—a whole series. They aren’t out yet though.” Harry tried to suppress a sigh at the thought that he might never get to see any movie that was due to release in the future. “Tomorrow, should we head back?”

Malfoy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose we probably should. We knew this break wasn’t going to last forever. Although...” He looked over at Harry and smiled a mischievous grin.

“What?” Harry asked, suddenly concerned.

“We still haven’t done anything crazy for you.”

“Malfoy, I told you—I don’t want to hex anyone at work!”

“There has to be something, Potter! Come on, this is a once in a lifetime chance to do something with absolutely no consequences! What do you hate the most about your job?”

“The mound of paperwork on my desk,” Harry answered wryly.

✦ ✦ ✦

They stood in Harry’s cubicle the following morning. The floor was still somewhat empty as Ministry workers slowly ambled in bleary eyed and looking tired.

“So what do you want to do with it?” Malfoy asked, standing next to Harry with his arms crossed.

“Honestly?” Harry lifted his wand. “ _ Incendio! _ ”

The mound of paperwork went up in a large flame.

“Fuck!” Malfoy jumped back. “Warn a man next time, Potter!”

Harry laughed and just watched the large mound of paper burn. A dark grey cloud of smoke billowed out around it and up and over his cubicle wall.

“What is going on?” Several Aurors came running into the cubicle wands raised.

“Move along,” Malfoy said, waving them off.

“Potter- what’s going on here?!” Auror Smith demanded.

Harry looked from him to the paperstack and just shrugged, unable to come up with a response that would make any sense.

“Put your wand down!” Smith yelled.

“Auror compromised! We have a situation here.” Another Auror called out.

“Just come with us and we’ll figure out if you are under the influence of a spell.... or a person.” Smith looked at Malfoy with narrowed eyes.

“I am  _ not _ under the influence of a  _ person _ .” Harry stepped in front of Malfoy, wand up.

“Auror Potter, we’ll figure out what happened later.” Smith raised a hand as if placating him. “Just put your wand down and let us take you both in for testing.”

“Absolutely not,” Malfoy said with a huff.

“ _ Expelliarmus _ !” Harry shouted, quickly grabbing the two Auror’s wands as they shot towards him.

“Oh fuck,” Malfoy said, eyes wide.

“Code four! We have a code four!” Smith yelled loudly as he ducked behind a cubicle. 

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity and Aurors started running towards them.

“ _ Protego _ !” Harry and Malfoy shouted in unison to block a flurry of spells that suddenly shot their way, as they started dueling Aurors as they came around the corner.

“Potter! Dueling the entire Auror department was NOT what I had in mind!” Malfoy shouted over the curses flying left and right.

Harry ducked down behind the cubicle wall as a spell blasted a hole it in, just missing his head.

“You were the one-  _ Protego _ ! -who insisted I do something crazy!  _ Stupefy _ !” Harry pushed the cubicle wall over on two unsuspecting Aurors. “Let’s go!” Harry grabbed Malfoy’s hand and started pulling him towards the lifts.

“ _ Everte Statum _ !” Malfoy shouted out as another Auror came into view.

“ _ Expelliarmus _ !” Harry shouted, but the Auror ducked out of the way.

“ _ Stupefy! _ ” A cry came from behind them.

Harry felt Malfoy fall beside him. “Malfoy!” Harry looked over to see Malfoy unconscious in a heap on the floor.

“ _ Stupefy! _ ”

Harry spun towards the voice, but before he could get a shield up, he felt the spell slam into him “Oof!”

Harry opened his eyes slowly. His chest hurt, and he felt like he’d been run over by a train. “Ughhh,” he moaned.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” a sarcastic voice stated.

Harry stretched his neck to the side, hearing several pops and cracks as it realigned, and then pulled himself up to a seated position. He looked over and saw Malfoy sitting next to him, with a purpling bruise on his eyebrow.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“Well, after you so brilliantly decided to try to duel with the entire Auror department while  _ inside _ the Auror department, we were both stunned and I can only assume, arrested, as we seem to be in a Ministry holding cell.” Malfoy crossed his arms and looked thoroughly unimpressed by the turn of events.

“Oh.” 

“Oh? That’s all you have to say is, oh?” Malfoy asked incredulously.

Harry shrugged. “You wanted me to do something I would normally never do, right?”

Malfoy started shaking and it took Harry a minute to realise he was laughing. Within a minute, he was doubled over and gasping for breath.

After a moment, Harry joined in on the laughter and couldn’t stop. It was all so ridiculous.

“Harry?”

Harry looked over at the barred window on the holding cell door to see Ron looking in, expression concerned. He tried to get ahold of his breathing and settle down.

“Morning, Ron. How’s it going?”

Ron’s eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. Harry heard Malfoy snort another laugh next to him and started giggling again.

“Mate- have you gone mad? I got to the Ministry and was held up at the lift because there was a ‘situation’ on Level 2 and they had it locked down. Then they finally let me upstairs and I keep hearing stories that you and Malfoy attacked a whole bunch of Aurors!”

“Technically they attacked us first,” Malfoy replied.

“They attacked you?” Ron asked skeptically. “Why would they attack you?”

Harry ducked his head and drew in a breath, another giggling fit coming on. “Probably because I lit my desk on fire.”

“And disarmed two of them” Malfoy snorted and started shaking with laughter again, bumping his shoulder against Harry’s.

“You lit your desk on fire,” Ron repeated slowly. “Should I even ask why?”

“I really hate paperwork,” Harry said with as straight of a face as he could manage, well aware of how ridiculous it all sounded.

“Right. Okay- I’m going to talk to Robards and see if we can’t get you checked into St. Mungo’s—see if they can figure out what happened.”

Harry groaned. “I don’t need to go to St. Mungo’s.”

“You’d rather stay locked up in this cell then?” Ron asked. “Because right now, you are both under arrest for quite a few charges. Obviously something happened, mate, so at least let them check you out and we can figure out what. Did you two mess with a cursed object or something?”

Malfoy snorted another laugh. “You could say that.” Harry started laughing again.

“Okay,” Ron said, slowly, “You’re both obviously under some sort of spellwork or curse. I’m sure they can figure it out.” Ron paused for a moment, looking at Malfoy before turning back to Harry. “Are you going to be okay in here? And you know… not do anything daft?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, offended.

“We’re fine, Weasley,” Malfoy answered before Harry could get more worked up. 

Ron looked at him for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Harry waited until Ron was most likely out of ear shot. “I can’t believe we are going to wind back up at St. Mungo’s.”

“If that old nurse pokes me unnecessarily hard with her wand one more time, I swear to Merlin, Potter, I am going to hex her.”

“I’m pretty sure you don’t have a wand anymore.”

“Damn. You’re right.” Malfoy huffed.

Harry smiled and turned to him. “Thanks for talking me into that this morning. I think I actually needed it.”

“I told you. You really should know to listen to me by now.”

“Oh, piss off.” Harry laughed and then leaned back against the wall, his shoulder and arm gently pressed up against Malfoy’s. He wasn’t sure when it happened, but he realised over the past few days, he really did consider Malfoy a friend. He wondered what would happen when they finally got out of the time loop, if they’d be able to stay friends of it would be like it never happened.

“What’s got you out of shape all of a sudden?” Malfoy asked.

“What?”

“I can feel your sudden mood change from here. Don’t worry about the loop, Potter. We’ll figure it out. We’ve got Granger—I’m pretty sure she’s never failed at anything in her life.”

“Oh- it wasn’t- that wasn’t what I was thinking.”

Malfoy looked over at him.

“I was just-” Harry sighed. “I was wondering if we’ll manage to stay friends when this is all over.”

Malfoy sighed. “I realize you are stuck with me for the moment, but don’t worry, we’ll get out of this situation eventually and you can get back to all your real friends.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

“I’m sure you have plenty of friends already, and I know you have no shortage of people who would love to be friends with the Great Harry Potter if you need more.”

“Oh yeah, just what I need—more people who think they know the first thing about me because they read some Prophet article about my favorite foods.” Harry rolled his eyes, trying to shove down the twinge of hurt that Malfoy side stepped his question. He didn’t know why it should matter to him, really, if they stayed friends.

Malfoy looked at him intently for a moment, and then looked away. “Still, I’m sure you can do better than a prickly ex-Death Eater.”

“What does that even mean? Do you think I make friends on some rating system? I’m friends with people that I want to be friends with, yeah? And, I thought that included you.” Harry huffed.

After a long silence, Malfoy laughed suddenly. “Friends, huh? When did that happen?”

“Well, we spend every day together and go to dinner and movies,” Harry said with a smile. “And, for all this forced time together, I find myself surprisingly not sick of you.”

“Wow, what a compliment; you aren’t sick of me,” Malfoy drawled.

“Oh shut it, you know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t, I think I need you to explain it to me, actually.” Malfoy said loftily.

“I like spending time with you, you git. Is that better?” Harry rolled his eyes with a smile and leaned back against the wall. 

“Much.”

“It’s possible this whole ordeal caused some sort of brain damage though. I wouldn’t rule it out,” Harry added.

“Oh no, don’t go blaming your sudden good judgement on a brain injury. Unless I’m mistaken, you’ve been cleared in perfect health several times since this loop started.”

Harry let out a laugh. “My sudden good judgement?”

“Your taste must be improving if you consider me a friend.”

“I’m going to remember that the next time you insult my clothes.”

“I said improving, not perfect, Potter. Keep up.”

Harry laughed just as the door scraped open.

“Potter, Malfoy, I’ve been instructed to escort you to St. Mungo’s.” Auror Harding, one of the new Junior Aurors, stood in the doorway with his wand levelled at the two men.

Harry suppressed a laugh. The young man looked terrified at the prospect of escorting them anywhere.

“Just relax, sport. Neither of us have wands.” Malfoy stood up and stretched.

“Just keep your hands where I can see them, or I’ll have to bind you.”

“Kinky,” Malfoy retorted.

Harding ignored him and continued, “Robards set up a portkey to take us directly there. And there is already an Auror waiting there, so don’t get any ideas.” Harding locked the door behind him, and pulled out a small tin can.

“Go ahead and touch it,” Harding said, holding the can out.

Harry snorted. “That’s what she said,” Harry said, knowing Malfoy wouldn’t get the reference, but needing to say it anyway. Malfoy must have gotten the general idea as he burst out laughing.

Harry reached out to grab the can, and Malfoy swatted his hand away. “Leave room for the rest of us. Just the tip will do.”

Harding looked between the two of them, raising his wand slightly at the scene of the two men now giggling uncontrollably, causing Harry to laugh even harder.

Before either of them could make any more inappropriate jokes, Harry felt the pull of the portkey and landed in a guarded room at St. Mungo’s a few seconds later. Several nurses stood ready with their wands raised.

“Here we go again,” Malfoy muttered under his breath.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry laid down on the hospital bed and tried to ignore Junior Auror Harding standing in the corner of the room, continuing to keep guard over the two of them. Ron had stopped in earlier to check on them, still looking concerned at their sudden friendliness.

“So, back to work tomorrow?” Harry asked.

“I suppose,” Malfoy responded.

“I was thinking, I don’t think we should go back to twelve hour days. I know we obviously want to make progress and get out of this loop,” Harry said, not bothering to hide their conversation from Harding. It wasn’t like he could do anything about it. “But, if we keep working without any breaks, I think we’re just going to burn out again. What do you think about cutting off at seven every evening and then we can have a bit of a life too? You know, be able to go to dinner and not just eat the same Ministry canteen food every day, or watch a film here and there.” Harry tried to ignore the niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach questioning what he was doing. On the one hand, he knew they needed some time off, but he wondered how much of this was just wanting to spend more leisure time with Malfoy. 

Malfoy was silent for a minute.

“Nevermind, it was probably a dumb idea. Obviously we’ll make more progress if we just work.” Harry turned on his side, so Malfoy wouldn’t see the disappointment written on his face.

“Potter, I was just thinking. You don’t have to always assume I hate your ideas. I think it makes sense. I was just thinking that if this takes... longer than expected, I don’t want to feel like I’ve completely lost my life over it. These past few days have been... well, I really needed them.” Malfoy said, tone serious.

Harry turned back over and looked at him. He was still sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Are you worried we won’t work this out?” Harry asked.

“I’ve always been worried we won’t work this out. I know things in your life tend to work out—sometimes miraculously—but my life doesn’t tend to work that way. And... things have been generally good lately, so I couldn’t help but worry that it had been too good so now life was going to find a way to beat me back down. But, I suppose I should be relieved that you are stuck here with me; that makes my odds better right?” Malfoy said with a wry smile.

“Hey- we’ll work it out. Plus, like you said, Hermione doesn’t even know how to fail at things, right?” Harry gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Malfoy huffed. “True.”

The door opened and one of the Healers came walking back in. Harry sat up as she pulled out her chart.

“Auror Potter, Mr Malfoy- you are both in perfect health. No curses or hexes have been detected on either of you. I’ve given my full report to the Auror office as well.” The healer looked back at them for a moment and then added, “ You will need to stay here until they decide what to do with you.” She looked at Harding until he gave her a nod of understanding and then turned and left.

Auror Harding seemed to tense up slightly. Harry wasn’t sure if it was due to their clean bill of health or the thought that he’d need to move them again.

Ron walked in a minute later. “Mate- I just heard. I’m sure they missed something. I’m trying to get Robards to let you stay overnight for observation here.”

Ron looked incredibly stressed, and Harry felt bad for putting him through all this. “Ron, it’s fine. Look- I-” Harry looked at Malfoy who just shrugged.

“We’re stuck in a time loop,” Harry said.

“What?” Ron asked.

Harry sighed. “We went on a case and I accidentally set off an artifact and Malfoy and I have been stuck in a time loop. Most days we’ve been working with Hermione on trying to break it, but we were just exhausted and needed to blow off some steam, so I lit my paperwork on fire because  _ someone _ decided I needed to take advantage of the time loop at least once. We’re fine, not under any curse. Well, we’re definitely under the influence of something but not that caused me to light my desk on fire.”

“Unless you count the strain of being in an unending time loop,” Malfoy added.

“Right.” Harry laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry if I freaked you out today. If it makes you feel better, you won’t remember this tomorrow anyways,” Harry offered.

Ron looked back and forth between the two of them as if to see if they were messing with him. “You’re stuck in a time loop. With Malfoy.”

“Yes.”

“Like a time turner?”

“It’s just the one of me each time - not so much like going back in time with another body, more like our erm- consciousness goes back into our body, like where our body was at sunrise of the day the loop started...” Harry trailed off, not sure if he was making sense. This is why he normally let Malfoy explain it to Hermione in the mornings.

“So, not a time turner, then?” Ron asked.

“Erm- no.”

“We don’t really know what it is yet, Weasley.”

“But no one else remembers anything except you?” Ron asked, incredulously.

“No, the spell only hit the two of us.”

“How long?”

“What?” Harry asked.

“How long have you been stuck in this time loop?”

“Erm- I don’t really know any more,” Harry answered, looking at Malfoy in question.

“If I had to guess it’s been about a month and a half,” Malfoy said.

“Damn.” Ron let out a breath. “So, you have been reliving the same day... today... for a month and a half.”

“That’s about the short of it.” Harry sighed, somehow it was easier to handle when he didn’t think about it too much.

“That is nuts and pretty unbelievable. Although... this still makes more sense than you suddenly befriending Malfoy and going on a rampage through the Ministry. What can I do? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No- we need to translate a journal that was found on the scene, but it’s taking a really long time. Hermione has been helping.”

“Mate- that’s... And you two haven’t killed each other yet?” Ron asked suddenly.

Harry let out a surprised laugh. “No, amazingly.”

“It was a near thing for the first few loops,” Malfoy said.

“Well they want to take you back to the holding cell while they work out this whole mess,” Ron said.

“It really doesn’t matter,” Harry explained. “The loop is going to reset at sunset regardless and we’ll both wake up in our beds.”

Ron nodded slowly as if he was still trying to process this. “So, you don’t care if you wind up back in the holding cell?”

“It isn’t my preferred way to spend my afternoon,” Malfoy drawled. “But Potter doesn’t know how to do anything subtly.”

“I don’t know how to do this subtly?” Harry asked turning around towards him. “You hexed half the Ministry on your loop! You spent ten minutes having a go at Brinkley in accounting just because he’s made you redo a few forms!”

“Well, that was different. Besides, we didn’t even get caught.”

“We didn’t get caught because I dragged us out of the Ministry before the Aurors could catch up to us and then we hid out in Muggle London for the rest of the day.”

“And yet, I still didn’t start a full blown battle with the Auror force.” Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

Harry grabbed his pillow and tossed it as Malfoy’s face. Malfoy knocked it out of the way and laughed.

Ron cleared his throat. “Right. Okay.” He looked back and forth between them. “Do you need anything today then? I’m going to go talk to Hermione about this. I know you said you’ve already worked with her in other... ‘loops,’ but I’d still like her opinion.”

“Thanks, Ron. There’s really nothing you can do, but thanks all the same,” Harry said.

“Okay, I’ll try to check back later. If they let you stay here.” Ron stared at them for another moment and then finally turned and headed out the door.

Harry checked his watch. “We have seven more hours for this loop.”

Malfoy just sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

Harry flopped back down on the bed and was about to get comfortable while they waited when he suddenly heard a groan behind him. He turned and saw Malfoy clutching his stomach, doubled over.

“Malfoy?” Harry jumped up. Malfoy just kept moaning and breathing hard.

“Hey- get someone in here!” Harry yelled at Harding, leaning over Malfoy. “What happened?! Could it be something you ate?”

Harry turned to see Harding still standing there, frozen. “Get someone now!”

Harding finally moved, keeping his wand on the two, but moving towards the hall. “We need a healer in here!”

Harry started rubbing circles in Malfoy’s back unable to do anything more without his wand. “We’re getting help, just hang on.”

A nurse came bustling in. “Step back—give me some room!” he barked at Harry.

Harry jumped back, and the nurse bent over, putting a hand on Malfoy’s back as he started casting his diagnostic charms.

“Oof.” Suddenly there was movement, and Malfoy pulled the nurse in front of him. “ _ Petrificus Totalus _ !”

Harding went down like a wooden plank. Malfoy shoved the nurse towards Harry and then cast the same on the nurse with what must have been the nurse’s wand. Harry tried to ease the nurse’s fall to the floor; Harding’s fall had looked painful.

Harry looked up at Malfoy, shocked. “So- we should probably go then.”

“Yes, Potter. We should probably go. Quickly.” Malfoy laughed and ran towards the door. They ducked into the hallway, alternating between running through mostly empty halls and quickly walking like there was nothing wrong in the more busy ones. Finally, they got to the entrance to the main lobby.

They flattened themselves against the hallway wall and Harry looked around the corner quickly. He saw at least one Auror robe. Malfoy looked at him in question, but Harry put up a finger to wait and looked again, a little slower this time. There were just a few Hospital staff milling around the patients and the Auror. When Harry looked closer, he realized the Auror was Ron—he appeared to be talking to a hospital administrator.

“It’s just Ron and some hospital staff.”

“So we should make a break for it?”

“I have a better idea.” Harry motioned for Malfoy to give him the wand and then cast two disguise charms. There was a high likelihood Ron would see through it since he had been trained for that in the Aurors. Harry was counting on his friend letting them walk out, pretending he hadn’t seen them.

“Wait!” Malfoy grabbed Harry’s arm when he went to leave and took the wand back, casting several clothing charms to make their clothes also look different. They’d left their robes upstairs, but now they looked more like they were both wearing nondescript Wizarding casual wear, nothing that would stand out.

“Good thinking,” Harry whispered. “Okay. Just act normal.”

They walked out into the lobby and the patients in the waiting room and hospital staff looked right past them, clearly not recognising them. They got closer to the door and Ron glanced over at them. Harry thought may he didn’t notice, but then he whipped his head back and looked closer. Harry kept walking, trying to look bored and not like he was currently sneaking out of Auror custody. He snuck another look at Ron and saw the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“We’re good- let’s go,” Harry said under his breath.

A few seconds later, they were out on the pavement. “Can you apparate with that?” Harry asked, pointing to their newly acquired wand.

“Yeah, it’s working well enough for me.” Malfoy put out his arm and Harry felt the pull of apparition as they landed in an alley in Muggle London. Harry felt soft magic wash over him as Malfoy dropped the charms on both of them.

“Where are we?”

“Well I figure they are likely to look for us at both of our houses,” Malfoy replied as they stepped out of the alley and found themselves a block from the cinema.

Harry let out a surprised laugh. “You want to go to a film?”

“Why not? I doubt they’ll look for us there.” Malfoy grinned and jogged across the busy street, deftly avoiding traffic.

✦ ✦ ✦

“Incaăi o datyaă...” Hermione said, flicking her wand to write the word on the conjured chalkboard on the wall.

Harry flipped through the Ancient Veela book while Malfoy looked through a book on Romanian. So far, they’d found that Ancient Veela seemed to have Romanian roots, or Romanian had Ancient Veela roots—there were several texts that suggested either could have influenced the other. Regardless, they found that when they couldn’t find direct translations in the texts on Ancient Veela, if they could find the root of the word in Romanian, they could often deduce the meaning.

It was an incredibly arduous process—particularly since they had to start with Hermione’s transcription of the Ancient Veela from Atlantic Mermish before they could even get to that point. Harry was now harbouring a growing hatred for Malcolm Blight and becoming irrationally angry that the man was dead so that he couldn’t hunt him down and kill him himself. It figured Harry and Malfoy had to wind up cursed by an object that was messed with by a completely paranoid ancient history nut job who decided he needed multi-level encryption on notes probably no one would have tried to read in the first place. 

“I have...” Malfoy scribbled something down as he flipped back and forth through the Romanian book. “ _ You were dating another one _ . That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I don’t think... Wait, it’s not an exact match, but what about  _ once more _ ?” Harry asked as he flipped back and forth between the two pages on “I” words.

Hermione popped her head up. “Once more? That would-” She jumped up and started writing out the whole sentence. “ _ If I could alter the stone, it would be possible to live once more. _ ”

“Live once more... Did he think it was a resurrection stone?” Malfoy asked.

“Or... what if he thought he could have a do-over?” Hermione asked, pacing now. “Think about it. We know that the stone allows you to go back in time  _ in your body _ . So, unlike a time turner, you can actually relive the time as if it were the first time—without an ‘old’ you getting in the way. What if he thought he could make it go back farther?”

“Like his whole life?” Harry asked. They were only about a third of the way through the journal and Blight still hadn’t explained what the stone was supposed to do in the first place. He was still hunting for the stone at this point—he’d been to Africa, Hawaii, and Norway all following seemingly dead ends where texts or artwork had depicted, as Blight referred to it as, the Stone of Time. This was the first real hint of what he thought the stone might actually do.

“Maybe. We’d need to know what the stone did before he started altering it first.” Hermione replied.

“Let’s just hope we don’t have to live through too many more descriptions of the food he ate on this journey before he finds the fucking thing,” Malfoy grumbled, as he massaged his temples. Hermione immediately got back to decoding the next section of Ancient Veela from Mermish.

Harry checked his watch, it was nearly seven in the evening.

“Hey, Hermione. I think we need to call it a day.”

She looked up from her parchment. “I thought you had until sundown.”

“We do, but,” Harry looked at Malfoy for confirmation and he nodded. “Honestly, we’ve been getting burnt out, working seven days a week all day long with no breaks. We finally took a couple loops off recently and realized that we needed to take some breaks once in awhile.”

“Oh, right. That makes sense.” Hermione started stacking up her parchments. “This must be hard. I’m sure it’s incredibly frustrating going through the same thing day after day, but still, it would be interesting to live without consequences.”

Harry smiled. “You’ve said that before.”

“Oh, have I?” she looked up with interest.

“So, we’ll pick it up here tomorrow. I mean, not that you’ll remember this conversation and all...” Harry trailed off. Loop conversations were so awkward.

“Thanks Granger. Come on, Potter.” Malfoy stood up and stretched.

Hermione looked back and forth between them. “You two really get along now don’t you.”

“Shocking, I know,” Malfoy responded with a smile.

She kept looking at them like she was trying to puzzle something out, and Harry cleared his throat. “Okay, we’re going to be going now, see you tomorrow, or erm- next loop.”

“I swear to Merlin, Potter...”

“Sorry!”

Harry gave a small wave to Hermione as they headed out of the conference room. She was still looking at them with an expression that Harry didn’t want to examine too closely. A self-consciousness settled over him as they headed towards the lifts. He wasn’t sure if it was because they were back in the Ministry, business as usual, or if something had shifted over the past few loops, but he was suddenly hyper-aware of Malfoy. His presence next to him, how his robes occasionally brushed against Harry’s arm. 

Harry cleared his throat and shook his head slightly, trying to clear it. It was just dinner. Just dinner amongst friends. 

“Okay, where should we go?” Malfoy asked as they waited for the lift.

“I don’t care. We could go to the Leaky Cauldron,” Harry offered.

“Won’t you get mobbed in public by your adoring fans, Potter?”

“I do not get  _ mobbed _ .”

“The Prophet seems to follow you around.”

“Reading up on me, Malfoy?” Harry asked with a smirk, enjoying the way Malfoy's face immediately flushed. The lift reached the atrium and they started walking towards the path through the statue.

“Absolutely not! I just notice they are always publishing something about your latest boy toy in the papers.”

“I don’t- that’s not- I do not have  _ boy toys _ !” Harry could feel his cheeks heating. 

“That’s not what I read back a month ago, in early May.”

“That was Ben. We were actually dating,” Harry replied with a huff.

“Oh.” Malfoy replied, a little more subdued. “Are you still...”

“No! You think I wouldn’t have mentioned something in over a month?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure.” Malfoy cleared his throat.

“Do you want to go to a Muggle restaurant then? Avoid the papers?” Harry asked trying to steer the conversation away from his failed relationships. 

“Do Muggles have steakhouses?”

“Yes, Muggles have- Malfoy, what do you think Muggles eat that you have to keep asking if they have different types of food?”

“Well, how should I know what they eat?”

“They eat normal food—same as Wizards!” Harry replied in exasperation as they neared the Floos. 

“I know for a fact that isn’t true! They have those fizzy soft drink things. Those are definitely not the same as Wizard drinks!”

“That’s  _ one _ thing. There are small differences like brands and types of sweets or crisps as well, but for main dishes, it’s basically the same.” Harry sighed, but smiled. “Okay, new plan for our nights out: you are getting an education in Muggle dining.”

Malfoy looked at him with raised eyebrows. “I thought the idea was to take the evenings off!”

“I’m not going to assign you essays to write on it—just, you need to get out more.”

Malfoy huffed. “I suppose the Italian restaurant was fine.”

Harry bit back a smile. “Okay, well for tonight, let’s find a steakhouse.”

Malfoy kept looking up at Harry over his menu.

“What?” Harry finally asked.

“I was just-” Malfoy huffed like he was fighting himself on whatever he wanted to say. Harry started to get nervous; he generally said whatever popped into his mind at the moment it popped into his mind, so Harry had no idea what would be so serious that he felt he couldn’t ask.

Harry put his menu down. “Just ask.”

Malfoy leaned over. “Don’t make fun, because I really don’t know. Do Muggles have wine at steakhouses?”

Harry tried to stifle his laugh, but failed.

Malfoy leaned back and put his menu back up. “I knew you were going to laugh at me.” He sounded actually offended.

“No, I’m sorry. I just thought it was going to be something really serious the way you kept looking at me!”

“Well, I knew you were just going to make fun of me, and I honestly don’t know these things, Potter!”

“Hey- okay, I’m sorry. I won’t make fun of you any more for what you don’t know. I promise.” Harry pushed Malfoy’s menu down so he could see him. His face was flushed and he looked genuinely embarrassed, making Harry feel even worse about it. “I’m sorry. I told you I’d teach you about these things—I shouldn’t be making you feel bad about what you don’t know.”

Malfoy nodded, his face still red.

“Yes, they have wine at steakhouses. Normally, they’d bring a wine menu, actually. I’m not sure why they didn’t.” Harry answered.

“I am trying, you know.” Malfoy said after a few seconds.

Harry looked at him confused.

“To learn... about Muggles. I am actually interested, you know. I- I haven’t exactly had many opportunities. I tried a few years ago, I thought I should probably learn more about them, since you know, everything I was taught was...” Malfoy cleared his throat. “So I exchanged some money at Gringotts and tried to go out in Muggle London.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. I couldn’t figure any of it out. I wound up walking for hours, having no idea where I was. And, when I tried to get on the train thing they have under the ground, I couldn’t work the ticket machine thing and someone yelled at me for taking too long, because it was the only one working, I guess. There was a queue lined up by then and everyone was really angry. And finally I gave up and found an alley and apparated home.” Draco traced the edge of his menu, not making eye contact.

“Would you like me to show you then?” Harry asked.

“To use the train machine?” Malfoy asked, looking up.

“Or any of it, all of it.”

“You’d show me?” Malfoy asked, sounding more unsure of himself than Harry had ever heard before.

“Of course.”

“And not make fun?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I will not make fun. I can’t promise I’ll never laugh if something catches me off guard, but I won’t be laughing at you, okay? I promise.” Harry assured him.

“Alright.”

“Yeah?” Harry smiled. “This will be good. Give us something to look forward to other than that blasted journal every day.”

“No. Absolutely no work talk after seven. New rule,” Malfoy said firmly.

Harry laughed. “Fair.”

The waiter came up to their table. “What can I start you gentlemen with this evening?”

“Do you have a wine list?” Harry asked.

The waiter glanced around the table. “Of course, my apologies.”

He left and came back within a minute with a wine list. “I will give you a moment.”

Harry handed it immediately over to Malfoy, knowing nothing beyond the inexpensive table wines he’d occasionally buy for dinner at home.

“Do you drink wine?” Malfoy asked.

“Occasionally. I don’t know anything about it though.”

Malfoy smiled. “Okay. I’ll order a bottle then. You can tell me about Muggles and I can teach you about wine.”

“Alright, as long as you don’t actually expect me to retain any of it. Hermione tried to explain something about tannins once.”

Malfoy laughed. “You’re retaining both Ancient Veela and Romanian these days, I think you can handle a little wine knowledge.”

“No work talk!” Harry chastised.

“Right- okay.” Malfoy put the menu down and the server came right over. After wine and meals were ordered, Malfoy looked back at Harry.

“So, your non-boy toy, Ben.”

Harry groaned.

“How long were you two together?” Malfoy asked.

“Six months, why?”

“Six months? And the Prophet never got wind until May?” Malfoy asked, sounding surprised.

“No, we tried to stay out of the public eye, especially at first. It’s just too much strain on a new relationship,” Harry answered, unsure how much he wanted to talk about his failed relationships.

“What happened?”

“Why did the prophet finally find out? Or what happened to the relationship?”

“The relationship.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“I’m curious. Consider it getting to know each other, Potter.” Malfoy smiled, looking like he was trying for innocent.

“Right.” Harry let out a laugh. “Okay, but then I get to ask you questions.”

“Fine. A question for a question?”

“That would be two questions, as I’ve already answered one.” Harry raised an eyebrow.

Malfoy smiled. “Fine.”

The waiter came back with their wine. Malfoy tasted it and approved the bottle, before the server poured one for each of them.

“So, what happened?” Malfoy repeated.

“Well, he dumped me, so that pretty much ended that relationship.”

“Someone dumped the Chosen One?” Malfoy asked, eyebrows raised.

“Come off it, Malfoy. Don’t call me that.”

“No, I’m just surprised. I just thought- I don’t know- I just can’t imagine someone dumping you.”

Harry looked at him for a second, trying to see if he was taking the piss. “You really don’t think someone would dump me? You hated me until a couple months ago, or however long it’s been, or loops in months time, that is- you know what I mean.”

Draco had his eyes closed, and said through gritted teeth, “I know what you mean, for the love of Merlin.”

“Fuck- sorry.” Harry laughed. He really wasn’t trying to drive Malfoy mad at this point, but his brain still had a hard time dealing with loop time. “Anyways, case in point. I drive you nuts every day.”

Malfoy opened up his eyes and looked at him searchingly. “That’s not enough reason to dump someone. Are you actually saying he dumped you because you were annoying?”

“No, at least not that he said. It was my fault though. I just was at work all the time, and I don’t know, he said I wasn’t that interested in him or I would have been home more.”

“Was he right? About you not being that interested?” Malfoy asked.

“Maybe? At the time I didn’t think so, and I was really upset. But, a week later, I realized I didn’t really miss him. I missed maybe the  _ idea _ of him—someone I could come home to, spend holidays with, but I didn’t miss  _ him _ . So, I guess I must not have been.” Harry shrugged. He often wondered if love just wasn’t for him; it always seemed like it went that way. He would find a really great person—someone kind and fun and attractive—and then it would just fizzle out. When he was in his more maudlin moods, he wondered if he was just too broken for love.

Malfoy hummed in response and looked deep in thought.

“Okay, you asked me at least ten questions there. My turn,” Harry said, glad to turn the tables for a minute.

“It was not ten! It was follow up questions for the one question that you hadn’t yet answered fully.”

“Okay, then, one plus nine follow ups. What about you?”

“What about me what?”

“Dating? Is there or has there been anyone special? Any almost Mrs Malfoys?” Harry asked.

“Mrs Malfoys?” Malfoy laughed. “You really don’t read the Prophet, do you?”

Harry looked at him, confused.

“It was quite the scandal about eight years ago when I broke off my arranged engagement to Astoria Greengrass and then promptly was photographed coming out of a gay nightclub.”

“Oh,” Harry said, his brain trying to have too many thoughts at once.

Malfoy looked at him for a minute, seeming to enjoy Harry’s surprise. “And, to answer your question- no there hasn’t been anyone ‘special,’ you Hufflepuff. I also work a lot.”

Harry cleared his throat, trying to reorganise his thoughts. “Just work?”

Malfoy ran his finger up and down the stem of his wine glass. “Work, people not wanting to seriously date an ex-Death Eater, you know...”

“That was years ago—I thought everyone was over that now?” Harry asked, remembering how irritated he’d felt seeing Malfoy strut around the Ministry like nothing had happened. It felt like such a long time ago now. 

“Over that?” Malfoy let out a startled laugh. “What on earth would give you that idea?”

“I don’t know. Everyone at the Ministry seems fine with you, even my friends have said how good you are at your job, and you just- you’ve been going around acting like the whole thing never happened for the last few years, so I just assumed...”

“You assumed.” Malfoy sighed. “Potter- people hate me. I work harder than everyone in my department just so I can keep my job. If I so much as sneeze wrong, there are multiple people in my department, and yours for that matter, who would be thrilled to see me immediately fired. So, yes, I’m really fucking good at my job because that’s the only thing I can control, and it’s the only way to protect myself from those people. I have to work harder and be better than everyone else.”

Harry felt a flush creep up his face at the thought of how he’d been one of those people until recently. He would have tried to have gotten Malfoy fired for making a mistake on a case. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever, they’re arseholes. I’ll be fine.”

“No- I mean I’m sorry I was one of them.”

Malfoy shifted in his seat. “Well. Okay, yeah you were, but I think you probably had more reason than most, with our history and all. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t been goading you every time I saw you.”

“I noticed,” Harry said wryly. “Why is that?”

Malfoy didn’t answer right away, looking at Harry carefully. “I’m not sure I honestly know. I just... I have always felt defensive around you.”

“Defensive?” Harry asked, confused.

“Not like you were going to attack me,” Malfoy said with a small smile. “More like I can’t live up to the Great Harry Potter. That my failings and weaknesses always feel a little more pronounced around you.”

“I don’t-”

“You’re everything I’m not. You were the hero when I was the villain, the brave Gryffindor when I was scared shitless.”

Harry’s mind reeled, trying to make sense of everything he had just said.

“What?”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

“Malfoy, we were both  _ kids _ . We were both scared shitless kids, playing out roles that had been laid out for us years before.” Harry looked at him intently, hoping he could understand the frustration and anger he still felt at having gotten dragged into a war. “I’m not saying that some of the things you did weren’t absolute shite, but you didn’t wake up one day and decide to be the person you were, any more than I did. We were both groomed in our own way. And, believe me, I still have some fucking issues with that even as you say as the ‘hero’.”

“It’s more than that, Potter. You’re successful and well liked and, ignoring everything I’ve ever said to you, I do actually know that you are good at your job. People respect you. And, you have friends, and, regardless of Ben, I can’t imagine you often find yourself hard up for a date. You have people that care about you, and things just work out for you. You weren’t even worried when this bloody loop started because of how much things just work out for you. You have a pretty perfect life, Potter.” Malfoy refilled his wine glass from the bottle and took a long drink.

“Are you kidding me?”

Malfoy snorted, and Harry gave him a hard look.

“Yeah, I have a few friends and I’m so grateful for the Weasleys, but I’m... I’m still alone most of the time. I have no real family. No one that I absolutely know will  _ really _ love me no matter what. Dating is a mess—either they don’t want to deal with being followed around by the Prophet, or they  _ want _ the attention of the Prophet and that was the only reason they wanted to date me. Finding anyone who just wants to date  _ me _ is actually pretty damn hard. So, I work. I go to work and I occasionally go to dinner at the Weasleys. Ron and Hermione have kids now, so I see them once in a while, but ... in case, you haven’t worked this out over these last couple months or so, I don’t actually have someone to go home to either.” Harry felt his face flushed with anger that Malfoy could get it all so wrong after all this time.

Malfoy scoffed, and Harry felt his temper rising. It was always like this, wasn’t it? No one ever seeing him—the real him and the realities of his life. Everyone just assumed he lived this charmed life, and it made him feel so much more alone. Other than a small number of friends from Hogwarts, it was like this with everyone he tried to get to know as an adult. Harry felt like he should be used to it by now, but it always hurt, and somehow this also coming from Malfoy after all those weeks spending everyday together hurt even worse.

“I think I’m going to call it a night, actually.” Harry asked. “I’m suddenly tired. I think I just want to head home—we’ve got a lot of work tomorrow anyway.”

“Potter, wait. I’m-”

Harry pulled out his wallet and tossed down more than enough pounds to cover the meal for both of them, doubting Malfoy had any Muggle money on him.

“See you tomorrow.” Harry got up and headed towards the door, eyes burning. He didn’t know why it should matter so much. No one really saw him, why should Malfoy be any different? Harry didn’t understand why he’d expected something different—didn’t understand why he should suddenly expect that Malfoy would be one of the few people that could care about Harry for who he was, instead of everyone’s idea of him.

He quickly walked to the alley around the corner of the restaurant and apparated.

When Harry got to his bedroom, he threw his dirty clothes on the floor, knowing it didn’t really matter—everything would be the same tomorrow, regardless. He climbed under the covers and fell into a restless sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry dragged himself through the Ministry the following morning, still feeling out of sorts from the night before.

He got to Malfoy’s office and knocked instead of barging in like he normally did.

“Come in.”

Harry entered and sat down on one of the chairs. “Did you contact Hermione yet?”

“No, I just wanted to-”

“We should probably get started,” Harry cut him off. “It seems like we’re getting closer to getting actual information out of the journal finally.”

Malfoy paused, but then nodded and quickly scratched out a message and sent it off through the Ministry. They sat in a heavy silence for the next few minutes until Hermione arrived.

“Malfoy, I got your message,” she said as she walked through the door, doing her normal double take at Harry sitting there.

Malfoy quickly filled her in and they went about their morning routine of answering her questions before they could go to Robards and do it all over again. Harry found himself more irritated at the repetition than normal.

Eventually, it was time for him to go to the crime scene and get the journal and he let out a breath of relief at getting out of the Ministry. He decided to walk from the Leaky Cauldron instead of apparating straight to the shop. He needed the fresh air.

It was still cool out, early as it was, and Harry breathed deeply. He wasn’t sure why he was so upset about the night before. A couple months ago, he wouldn’t have cared what Malfoy thought. He wouldn’t have cared that Malfoy didn’t understand that, even years later, Harry wasn’t over all the grief of all those he’d loved. He wouldn’t have expected him to know how hard it was to trust people—as people either seemed to be using him for his fame, or status, or inherited wealth. 

He knew it wasn’t exactly that bad most days. His life was generally good, but he couldn’t shake the general dissatisfaction he had with his life. Everything was infinitely better than it had been in his childhood. He had access to money, which allowed for safety and control of his own life. He had the freedom of being an adult, not being at the mercy of adults that either hated him or made questionable judgement calls. And he was no longer being hunted by a deranged lunatic and his followers; that was certainly a perk of his adult life. But, when the dust settled, there was so much still missing. His heart ached for a family and love in a way where he didn’t always feel just on the outside... a family that was really his.

He knew this was why he worked so much. It was something he could throw himself into, something to focus on other than the loneliness and grief.

Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts as he entered the shop, going straight for the journal. After enough rotations, he knew from experience no one would bother him if he didn’t pretend to find it naturally. They just all assumed he was supposed to be there doing whatever he was doing.

When he got to the conference room, Hermione already had her books and parchments scattered all over the tables and stuck up on the walls. It appeared Malfoy had gotten her caught up to the last sentence.

Harry handed her the journal and took a seat a couple seats down from Malfoy, ignoring the huff the other man let out.

A few hours later, Harry’s eyes felt like sandpaper from staring at the translations and reference books.

“Time to break for lunch?” Malfoy asked, stretching his arms over his head.

“Yes. Can you bring me back something from the canteen, actually?” Hermione asked, glancing up from her translations. “A sandwich is fine—just whatever they have today.”

“It’s a Chicken Caprese panini,” Malfoy replied.

“Oh, right. Same thing every loop?” She asked.

Malfoy nodded. “You coming, Potter?”

“No- I think I’m going to keep working today.” Harry not lifting his eyes from the page of Ancient Veela that Hermione had written down for him after she’d decoded it from Mermish. He could feel Malfoy still looking at him, but finally he heard a huff and the door open.

Hermione and he worked for a few minutes in silence.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked.

“Fine. I just want to get through this,” Harry replied, not looking up.

“Harry- what’s going on?”

He looked up to see a look of concern on her face and sighed. “I don’t know- A whole bunch of things I think. First, and most obviously, living the same day over and over again is complete shite.”

She gave him a small smile at that.

“But also- I don’t know, Malfoy and I got in a fight of sorts last night and I’m just kind of still upset about it.”

“You two seem off today; both of you seem upset. Not like your normal ‘at each other’s throats’ upset. He keeps looking at you, you know?”

Harry hadn’t actually noticed. “We’re rarely at each other’s throats anymore, actually. We’ve actually been... I don’t know- I thought we were becoming friends,” Harry confessed.

“You thought you were? But you were wrong?” Hermione asked gently.

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

“We were out to dinner yesterday... and it’s just- he just had me so wrong. He was going on about my perfect life and how everything comes easy to me. And, we weren’t fighting, so it wasn’t as if he was just saying it to piss me off, it was clear that’s how he actually sees me... It just made me realise he’s just like everyone else. He doesn’t know me at all.”

Hermione looked at him for a moment. “And you care what he thinks.”

Harry shrugged. He knew he shouldn’t, and yet...

“Harry, I think you need to talk to him. I know I don’t remember any of these previous loops, so I’m only going off of what I am seeing today, but he seems genuinely upset and worried that you are upset.”

Harry sighed. “Can we just get back to this translation?”

Hermione looked at him for a moment and then nodded, going back to her parchment. 

Harry tried to focus, but his thoughts kept coming back to Malfoy. He wished he could just shake it off. 

Malfoy had certainly said worse to him over the years. And Harry knew this was something he was just particularly sensitive about after years of Prophet articles and overly familiar fan mail and people talking to him like they knew everything about him already. But that was just it. He thought Malfoy, of all people, could see through the public idea of Harry Potter and just see _him_. With a sigh, he re-dipped his quill in some ink and set back to work. It was all just getting to be too much. The repetition, the loops, the endless translating. 

A few minutes later, Malfoy returned with two sandwiches in takeaway containers and placed one each in front of Harry and Hermione.

“Oh- erm, thanks,” Harry said, glancing up for a minute to see Malfoy looking at him intensely.

“This is hands down the worst thing I’ve ever read,” Malfoy complained. “When he isn’t talking about the places he’s travelling to in unnecessary detail, he’s just whinging about being lonely and how his life didn’t work out like he wanted.” He put down one of the reference books with a bang. “It’s like reading a teenage Hufflepuff’s diary.”

“What if all of it isn’t unrelated though?” Hermione asked, looking thoughtful.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Well here’s what we know: he’s been on the search for the Stone of Time, he knows that it will allow him to relive a short period of time, and he thinks if he finds it that he can alter it to make it go back further. We also know that he was extremely dissatisfied with his life—he spent all his time so focused on academics, teaching and researching around the globe that he never set down roots anywhere, and as far as I can tell, he didn’t even have any friendships let alone real relationships.”

Harry nodded. That lined up with the now several interviews he’d now had with Mrs Harris at the shop. Blight hadn’t even known the little family he had either.

“So what if this was what he was trying to do? He’s trying to redo his life because of all of this.”

“So, we’re stuck in a fucking time loop because Blight was lonely.” Malfoy dropped his head to the table and groaned.

Harry wondered how unhappy Blight must have been to have spent years searching for this stone. He could certainly understand the dissatisfaction and the loneliness, but he couldn’t imagine being so desperate that he’d want to do it all over again. He thought about his teen years and shuddered at the thought of trying to do that over again, going through all that again. Hermione glanced over at him.

“Well, hopefully he will find the stone soon and actually tell us something useful,” Harry said, bending back over the parchment he was working on.

They had a fairly good working system now, Hermione would decode three pages of the Mermish to Ancient Veela and then the three of them would work on the translations until those three pages were done and put them together. Unfortunately, even as Malfoy and Harry got faster at the translations, nearly matching Hermione’s speed much to her surprise every loop, the language was so archaic and sometimes incorrectly written that the most they’d ever been able to get through in a day was a little over six pages between the three of them.

Some time later, Malfoy checked his watch. “It’s seven. I think we should call it a night.”

Harry stretched and rubbed his eyes.

“Okay, one of you should read what I have so far then, so we don’t have to start this page over tomorrow.” Hermione handed the parchment over to Malfoy who scanned it and nodded, handing it back to her.

Harry took his time gathering the books and parchment back up for Hermione. He’d tried to convince her for several loops that they could just leave everything in the conference room, since it was just going to disappear anyways, but she was insistent they couldn’t leave any of it laying around.

Harry could see Malfoy hovering around the door for a minute, but eventually he left, and Harry let out a soft sigh. He just couldn’t deal with him tonight.

“Night, Hermione,” Harry said as he walked out, heading towards the lifts. He thought about grabbing takeaway on his way home, but was just feeling too tired. It’s not like he really needed to make sure he ate anyways, he always woke up in the same state, regardless. He hadn’t shaved since the time loops started, just keeping the slight overnight stubble.

The Ministry was fairly empty, as it usually was at that time, as he made his way down the lifts and through the Atrium.

He flooed directly home and went straight to his study, letting out a long sigh as he toed off his shoes and tossed his robes over a chair. He flopped down on the sofa feeling more lonely than he had in a long time—since the loops started really. At first, he was too distracted by the whole ordeal to worry too much about anything else, but over time he realized how much he enjoyed Malfoy’s company. He felt ridiculous, now thinking about it, letting Malfoy fill that gap in his life. He reminded himself he had work, and he just needed to focus on that. It was enough.

He scrubbed his face and grabbed the tv remote, turning on a quiz show. Eventually that ended and the Wimbleton came on, so he changed the station until he found some documentary series on the ocean and let himself not think about work or the bloody loop or everything bothering him.

Just as the show got to whale hunting behaviours, there was a knocking noise coming from downstairs. It took Harry a minute to realise what the noise was since most people that came to his house came through the floo.

He headed downstairs and opened the door to find Malfoy on the other side, holding a pizza box.

“Can I come in?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Harry stepped back and held the door open. “What are you doing here?”

“I got pepperoni. The bloke at the pizza shop said most people like that. I even managed to count out Muggle money correctly.” Malfoy said as he started towards the stairs to the kitchen.

“Malfoy- what are you doing?”

“I brought you dinner, because I am pretty sure you didn’t bother. And... I came to apologise.” Malfoy turned back to him.

“Just - it’s fine-”

“No, look, I- I’m sorry about what I said. I know your life isn’t perfect. ”

“It’s fine-”

“No, I know people think they know you and your life and how much it frustrates you. And, what I said- it’s... well... I guess, leftover baggage? It wasn’t fair.” Malfoy looked genuinely sorry and Harry found himself believing him.

“Okay,” Harry replied. He was still feeling the need to protect himself, but also feeling some hope creep back in. 

“Did you eat dinner?”

Harry shook his head.

Malfoy smiled a small smile. “I thought as much. Come on. You’ll feel better with some food in you.” Malfoy started down the stairs and Harry followed.

“Did you know Muggles put pineapples and hot peppers on their pizzas?” Malfoy said, conversationally, as he walked straight to the cupboard and pulled a couple plates out.

“I’m not sure too many people eat them together on the same pizza,” Harry replied.

“The bloke in front of me ordered them together! Pineapples, jalapeños and feta! All on the same pizza,” Malfoy said, sounding scandalised as he handed a plate to Harry and served himself a slice.

A laugh escaped Harry. “Okay, that sounds terrible.”

Malfoy nodded emphatically, sitting down at the table and starting in on his pizza.

Harry sat and ate his pizza while Malfoy regaled him with stories of going into Muggle London all on his own. Harry felt himself relaxing in a way he seldom did. The way he let go at Sunday dinners at the Burrow or Christmas mornings with Teddy, content with the feeling that only comes from home.

✦ ✦ ✦

“Okay, I’ve finally finished this page.” Harry handed the completed parchment of translation to Hermione. She stood up and stuck it on the wall next to her page and read through his translation.

Harry stretched, “I’m going to get another cuppa. Anyone need anything?”

“Wait! I think- look!” Malfoy jumped up with his piece of parchment. “It explains what the stone is actually supposed to do.”

Harry and Hermione crowded around the page. The page summarised what Blight knew from reading ancient Nordic texts from a Wizarding community that lived over a thousand years prior. 

It seemed the stone was used as a part of the village’s rituals on the equinoxes. The people of the village would gather close while one person touched the stone at the end of the day before sunset and it would prolong their celebration. From Blight’s writings, the stone would only work on the equinoxes and that it would only give the people wrapped in the spell one additional day. There was nothing about a loop, and it appeared they would just live out the day of the equinox once more and then go on with their lives. They called the repeated day a “second sun,” and it seemed that it worked from sunrise to sunset, so the Winter Solstice would be a much shorter second sun than the Summer Solstice, while the Vernal and Autumnal would be equal in length.

Hermione sighed. “The equinox was last week.”

“Do you think this has something to do with how he altered the stone?” Harry asked.

Hermione looked deep in thought for a minute. “I just don’t know. We still don’t have enough information.”

Malfoy let out a long frustrated sigh, and Harry checked his watch. It was a quarter to seven in the evening. He was pretty well cashed at this point. Taking a few hours at the end of the day had been working mostly. They went to dinner, occasionally a film, although they were running out of films that they wanted to see quickly, since it was always the same ones. Even with the break in the monotony every evening, Harry was finding his patience running thin.

“Malfoy, why don’t we just reread these translations a few times so we know we aren’t missing anything and call it a night?”

Malfoy nodded, still looking frustrated.

“How long have you two been at this? I know this morning you mentioned you’d been through more than a few loops, but do you have any idea of the actual number?” Hermione asked.

“I’ve completely lost track at this point,” Harry replied.

“It’s been maybe two months—who knows.” Malfoy added.

“Months? That’s awful.”

“Quite,” Malfoy replied.

Harry helped Hermione stack her books and parchments up, long ago having given up talking her out of cleaning up every night.

“What are you thinking tonight?” Malfoy asked.

“Want to wander around the city until we find somewhere new? I’m all out of places that I already know about,” Harry replied.

“Sure.”

“Night, Hermione,” Harry said as they walked out of the conference room. He knew she was probably looking at them strangely, as she did every evening while they made their dinner plans. They walked over to Harry’s cubicle and ditched their robes so they’d not stand out in Muggle London. Harry had previously tried to convince Malfoy to toss them in the rubbish bin every night since it didn’t matter, but Malfoy said his chest hurt at just the thought of tossing his designer robes.

They made their way towards the lifts and Malfoy pressed the call button.

“Do you think Blight ever got himself caught in a loop?” Harry asked.

The lift arrived with a ding and they both got on.

“Well he’d know how to get out of it, wouldn’t he? Actually, the fact he died years after the journal is dated is probably a good sign that he was not perpetually stuck in a loop forever because of some blasted spell he put on the stone to alter it.”

“I suppose.”

“Enough. No work talk after seven, you know the rule,” Malfoy said, as they exited the lifts on the Atrium level.

Harry sighed. Every loop that went by was chipping away at Harry’s confidence that even Hermione could get them out of this mess.

“You cannot get all depressed on me, Potter. You’ve been the optimist so far, completely convinced that everything will be fine. You are not allowed to fall apart on me now. I’m hanging on by a bloody thread here, alright?” Malfoy looked over at him.

Harry could see the strain on his face. He wondered how much of both of them were putting on an act, trying to outwardly pretend that everything was fine.

They took the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron and exited out into Muggle London.

“Ok, no work talk. Let’s go find a new restaurant. You know, if our day jobs ever don’t work out, I think we could have a second career as restaurant reviewers. Does the Daily Prophet review restaurants?”

Malfoy smiled, looking relieved at the change of topic. They could go back to this—focusing on everything but the increasingly concerning situation they found themselves in.

“They occasionally review some of the higher end new restaurants,” Malfoy answered. “It’s usually just a part of someone’s column. Do Muggles have people that just do reviews?”

“Yeah, there’s usually a whole food and culture section of the paper.”

“I suppose that makes sense. They have significantly more restaurants than we do.”

Harry hummed in agreement. They passed by a few pubs and standard fare restaurants, a falafel place or two. Harry wanted to find something completely different. This was the only part of their day that allowed for any real difference, any moments of surprise and lack of repetition. They turned down a few streets, wandering farther from the Leaky.

“What about this?” Malfoy asked, peering at a menu to the side of a door. “Never mind, I don’t want anything on this menu.”

They kept walking, making light conversation.

Harry was struck, as he often was of late, by how comfortable he was spending time with Malfoy. He genuinely enjoyed his company. At first, Harry had tried to convince himself that it was just because Malfoy was stuck in the loop with him. He was quite limited for conversation partners that wouldn’t become quickly repetitive. He’d tried to have lunch with Ron a few times, but the conversations got repetitive so fast that after a few times that Harry couldn’t stand it anymore. But, as the loops went on, Harry started doubting that was the sole reason he enjoyed Malfoy’s company. They could have just as easily been at each other’s throats. Had someone told him months ago that he’d find himself in this predicament, he would have absolutely expected that they would have spent every loop ready to hex each other. But, instead, Harry found himself looking forward to his evenings.

“What’s this?” Malfoy asked, looking at another menu. “Ethiopian?” He looked over at Harry.

“I’ve never had it,” Harry replied.

“Well that sounds like a winner,” Malfoy said as he grabbed the door, holding it open for Harry.

A few minutes later they were sat in low seats with a short woven wicker table that curved to a flat bottom basket at the top where there would normally be a tabletop.

After perusing the menu for a few minutes, they ordered the restaurant special which came with a mix of the various dishes for two people.

“Tomorrow, do you want to watch another film?” Malfoy asked.

“I think we’ve exhausted everything we actually want to watch at the cinema.”

“What about those... the things at that store... I don’t remember the name- The ones we got to watch the other Avengers movies on.”

“DVDs. I suppose we could do that. I’m not sure we have enough time to get to the store and rent something, grab takeaway and watch a whole movie. We only have around 2 hours and 20 minutes. I don’t particularly want a repeat of _Prometheus_ , although at least with a DVD we could go rent it again during the next loop and just fast forward to where we left off.”

Malfoy laughed. “True.”

They had thought they had just enough time for _Prometheus_ as it started at a quarter past seven, but they hadn’t accounted for the previews. The loop reset twenty minutes before the end of the movie. Harry had the bright idea to go back the next day to finish it before realising that they couldn’t just start halfway through. They even tried finding other cinemas playing it, but the other cinemas either had much earlier matinees or the film was starting even later. They were destined to never know how it ended until they figured out a way out of the time loop.

The waiter came over with a large tray of food and set it down in the basket top.

“Have you had Ethiopian before?” The waiter asked. Both men shook their heads.

“This is injera. You tear off a small piece and use it to grab the food.” The waiter ripped off a small piece to demonstrate grabbing some spicy lentils using the bread. “Then you come back here often and you get good at it and you do this.” He deftly rolled up the piece of bread with lentils using only his one hand. Harry was certain he was not going to be able to work that out, possibly ever.

“It is tradition in Ethiopian dining that when someone offers you food, you must eat it.” The waiter put the piece of rolled up injera in front of Harry’s face. Feeling incredibly awkward, Harry leaned forward and grabbed the piece with his mouth, feeling a flush creep up over his face. The waiter smiled broadly. “Good?”

Harry nodded as he chewed. It was spicy and reminded him a little of Indian, but the flavours were different. Malfoy was smiling broadly, looking like he was holding back laughing at the awkward interaction.

“Enjoy.” The waiter smiled and walked away.

Malfoy started laughing quietly. “How is it?”

“Oh piss off.” Harry grabbed another piece of bread and messily rolled up some vegetables and held it out to Malfoy. “Tradition.”

Malfoy laughed and leaned in to take the bite from Harry. As Harry’s piece wasn’t wrapped nearly as neatly, Malfoy struggled to get it and wound up with the tip of Harry’s finger in his mouth for a moment. Harry suppressed a shiver and felt his face flush slightly.

Malfoy smiled as he raised an eyebrow at him.

Harry coughed slightly and focused on ripping off another piece of bread. He needed to pull it together. Just because they were friends now and stuck together in this loop didn’t mean Harry needed to start developing feelings for the other man. Just because Malfoy also happened to be gay and happened to be attractive, that didn’t mean anything. Or because he was finding Malfoy’s little idiosyncrasies endearing, like how he ran his hand through his hair when he was frustrated, making his hair stick out slightly, or how he bit the corner of his lip when he was thinking too hard, or how he fiddled with his quill when he was dealing with a particularly difficult translation... Harry coughed again and shook his head slightly, trying to clear the confusing thoughts.

“So what kinds of films do you want to rent?” Harry asked.

“I like, what did you call it, action? And, that funny one with the couple was good,” Malfoy replied in between bites.

“That was a romantic comedy.” Harry focused on grabbing some chicken, trying to avoid watching Malfoy lick his fingers.

Malfoy nodded. “So, what else do Muggles do for fun?”

“On a Monday night?” Harry laughed. “I think we’re going to be slightly limited by Monday night activities that can be done between seven in the evening and sunset.”

“There has to be something, Potter. It seems like Muggles are always walking around this city, they can’t all be dining out, can they?” Malfoy asked with exasperation.

“They might be coming home from work! I don’t know what else there is. The museums and tourist attractions will all be closed by evening. I suppose we could always take a loop off every once in awhile to do something else, if you wanted.”

Malfoy sighed. “I don’t know.”

Harry nodded. While they’d needed those few loops off, he was painfully aware that every day they didn’t spend working on translating that journal was another day in the loop. He resolutely pushed down the thought that the journal wouldn’t have the answer they needed. There was no way to know if they were going down a dead end until they were there.

The mood slightly dampened, they continued to try the different dishes and went back to making light conversation about the types of films Malfoy might want to watch.

After dinner, they walked out of the restaurant into the mild evening air.

“You’re not too far from here, are you? Fancy a walk?” Malfoy asked.

“Sure,” Harry replied, in no rush to get home.

They got on the conversation of past cases as they walked vaguely towards Grimmauld Place, both telling stories of some of their most ridiculous cases. Harry found himself sneaking more glances than usual at the other man—noticing how his eyes sparkled when he talked about something he found humorous, how the corner of his lips turned up just slightly when he was being sarcastic or telling a particularly ridiculous story, or how his brow furrowed when he was trying to work out how to explain something about curse breaking so that Harry would understand.

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” Harry asked as they neared his home.

“Sure.”

Harry walked in and kicked off his shoes by the front door, then heading into the sitting room. He went to the cabinet on the far wall and pulled out some firewhiskey and two tumblers. After pouring a generous amount in both, he handed one of the glasses to Malfoy who held it up for a casual toast.

Harry clinked his glass against his and took a long sip. Still both standing near the cabinet, neither spoke and Harry found himself feeling awkward. They should probably move to the sofa, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to move. Malfoy had been over enough that it shouldn’t have been strange, but the air felt charged.

Harry took another sip and then looked up to see Malfoy looking at him intently. Suddenly there was a hand on Harry’s cheek and Malfoy leaned in, pressing his lips against-

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up to the sound of the alarm on his wand. He sat up with a start and then fell back onto his bed. Of all the bloody moments for the loop to reset. Putting his hands over his face, he groaned loudly.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry got ready and headed into work in a daze, thoughts spinning endlessly.

Draco kissed him. He kissed him and Harry never even got the chance to kiss him back before the loop reset. He wondered if Draco would regret it in the morning. Would he pretend nothing happened? Would he act weird? Would it become uncomfortable?

Harry could go in and just pretend everything was normal, and it would likely blow over—not change anything between them. But he didn’t want it to go back to normal. Harry would have been lying if he said his thoughts hadn’t been drifting in that direction for some time. 

But the idea that this could somehow ruin what they had terrified him. The friendship they had so carefully built over the past months meant too much to him. Even if the loop ended right then and there, Harry knew he’d be devastated if they never went to dinner again, never saw another terrible film, never walked aimlessly through the streets of London talking. Somehow in this mess, Harry has grown to care for Draco.

He walked through the halls on the second level, all nervous energy. He didn’t feel ready to make a decision but he also knew that if he went in and pretended nothing had happened that would still be a decision of sorts. This might be his one shot.

As he approached Draco’s office, he still hadn’t decided what he wanted to do. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Draco was sitting at his desk, looking stiff and uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Harry said as he entered the room.

Draco nodded, glancing up for only a second before looking away, focusing on everything in the room but Harry. The air was heavy.

“Did- er- did you send for Hermione yet?” Harry asked, wondering how long they had before she got there.

Draco cleared his throat. “No, I- er, no. I can do that now.” He made a movement to grab some parchment on his desk.

“Wait.” Harry was moving around the desk before he realized he’d made a decision.

Draco looked up at him, looking vulnerable. Harry raised his hand tentatively and gently touched Draco’s cheek before putting his hand around the back of his neck, bending down and kissing him hard. Harry’s heart fluttered at how right it felt. 

Not a second later, Draco pulled him down and Harry maneuvered himself until he was straddling his lap, not breaking the kiss. 

It was perfect and clumsy and sweet and desperate. It was everything. A deep well of want and need rose up in Harry, as he ran his hands along Draco’s shoulders and chest, feeling hard muscles, sharp edges. Harry forced himself to not worry about what any of it meant and deepened the kiss, pushing his hips slightly forward, his cock already hard, looking for friction, pressure. Hands caressing and grabbing and pulling. Draco moaned loudly as Harry ground into him. 

Harry leaned back slightly, breaking the kiss, and looked at Draco, lips red and swollen, hair sticking up slightly in several spots from where Harry had run his hands through it, robes askew, eyes bright. He was a beautiful mess and Harry wanted nothing more than to mess him up further. Draco ran his thumb across Harry’s lips, smiling slightly. 

Harry moved forward and captured his lips again, his hands coming up to work at the fastenings on Draco’s robes. 

Draco ran his hands through Harry’s hair and down his back as Harry finally found the first fastening. He grabbed both sides and started to unhook it, but his hands lost their grip as the tiny fastenings slipped through them. 

With a slight huff against the Draco’s lips, he gripped them again, harder this time, but couldn’t quite unhook them before his fingers slipped again. Who designed this damn thing? Harry felt his frustration growing as he still worked on the first one, eventually his mouth stilling against Draco’s, as he concentrated on getting the damn thing opened. 

Just as Harry was about to use brute strength to rip the robes off, he felt Draco laugh breathily against his mouth.

“Just- stop. You’re going to rip them.” Draco pulled back with a crooked smile and deftly unfastened his robes. 

“You and your damned fancy robes,” Harry huffed, leaning back and using the opportunity to open his own,  _ normally _ designed robes. 

“You like me in my fancy robes.” Draco cocked a smile as he pulled his robes open, revealing a crisp white button down and slacks that hugged his body. Harry felt any retort die on his lips and ran his hands over Draco’s chest, seeing the muscles ripple from the light touch, even through his shirt. A hint, a tease at what Harry was sure was a gorgeous body under all those clothes. 

His hands travelled further, stilling on his waistband. “Can I?”

Draco nodded, breath hitching slightly.

Harry managed to unfasten his slacks, with little fumbling and pulled Draco’s swollen cock out of his black briefs. For a moment, he contemplated standing them up so he could more fully undress him, see all of him, but then he had a better idea. Harry slowly slid to his knees. Draco’s breath hitched again, and Harry ran his hands up and down his thighs. 

“This okay?” Harry asked, voice deep and gravelly. 

Draco gave a jerk of a nod and grabbed the arms of his chair.

Harry leaned in, breathing in; he smelled earthy, like expensive soap. He pressed a small kiss to the head of his straining cock, pulling a low moan out of the man. Harry looked up to see Draco’s flushed face, eyes half closed. Harry licked at the head, lapping up the bead of pre-come that had gathered there. 

“Oh, fuck,” Draco moaned loudly. 

Harry looked up briefly and then smiled as he leaned forward, and swallowed Draco down to the root, swirling his tongue, sucking, alternating, hard and soft, quick and slow, working Draco up to a frenzy. The chair creaked beneath them as Draco let out increasingly desperate sounds. 

Harry breathed deeply, slowing down just enough to keep the other man on the edge. Draco started breathing heavier, hands grasping at Harry’s hair for a moment before Harry heard him clawing for purchase on the arm rests, the desk. He was moaning almost continuously and starting to shake slightly when something clattered to the floor, most likely off the desk, but Harry didn’t break his stride.

_ Rap, rap, rap! _

Harry jumped back, startled by the noise. 

“Shit,” Draco whispered loudly. “Just a minute!” He gestured to Harry to slide under the desk as he fumbled to quickly close his slacks and robes back up.

Harry huffed and crawled under the large wooden desk, adjusting his now uncomfortably half hard cock in his jeans as he leaned against the wood of the desk interior and pulled his knees up to him. 

Draco scooted up, his knees crowding Harry into the already tight space. “Come in.”

“Is everything alright, Mr Malfoy?” A woman’s voice asked.

“Of course, why do you ask?” Draco asked smoothly.

“I heard some strange noises that were coming from in here. It sounded like a scuffle.”

Harry felt his face heat at the realisation that someone had heard them. Someone at work, nonetheless.

“You must be mistaken. I’ve just been returning some memos before I head out to the crime scene. And, as you can see, there’s no ‘scuffle’.”

“Alright,” she said. “Well, while I have you, are you going to sign up for an item for the Children’s Charity? I noticed that your name was not on the sign up sheet yet, and it is just so important that we all give what we can. I’m sure you just forgot and I told Carl that—he was going on about how you probably wouldn’t give, but I told him—I told him not to judge people so quickly! I know-”

Harry suppressed a sigh, his cock deflating as he listened to her drone on and on.

“Yes, Edna.” Draco finally cut off her speech. “Of course, I was planning on giving. I just hadn’t gotten around to signing up.” He sighed.

“See, I know it. I told Carl-”

“Is there anything else I can help you with? I really do need to get back to this.”

“Oh, of course. I won’t keep you!”

The door clicked shut a moment later and Draco scooted his chair back, standing up so Harry could crawl out.

“So much for office sex,” Harry said with a laugh as he stood up and brushed off his robes.

Draco laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, well if there was ever a mood killer, Edna would be it. We should probably get on with the loop, anyway—important texts to translate and all that.” Draco looked not particularly thrilled at his own suggestion, but started smoothing out his robes nonetheless.

Harry sighed, torn between embarrassment at the idea of getting caught at work and the absolute desire to continue what they started. “I suppose.”

Putting his arms around Harry, Draco leaned in for another soft kiss. “Just until tonight.”

“I suppose I can wait.” Harry smiled against his lips. “But, I’ll have you know, I’m not very patient.”

Draco laughed softly as he sat back down. “Really? You don’t say.” He scribbled a note on a piece of parchment and sent the message on its way with a flick of his wand.

Harry refastened his own robes and plopped down in a chair. It was going to be a long day translating, nervous energy and excitement already taking over his brain. For the next few minutes, they sat in a charged silence, stealing glances at each other, smiles playing on their lips. And, Harry tried to not let his brain freak out too much about what it would all mean going forward.

“Malfoy, I got your message,” Hermione said as she walked in, looking at Harry in surprise. Harry tried to look natural. Hermione often saw right through him. 

Draco launched into his usual explanation and they answered Hermione’s questions. Fortunately, Hermione seemed surprised enough by the turn of events that she wasn’t paying particular attention to Harry’s inability to keep a small smile off his face.

They went through the rest of the motions that morning, convincing Robards to let them work on the journal, getting the resources they needed, and settling down in Conference Room B. Harry sat next to Draco and within a minute felt Draco’s leg pressed up against his. He glanced over and saw just the corner of Draco’s lips turned up as he tried to focus on something Hermione was saying about Atlantic Mermish. Harry had probably heard the speech before, but generally had been tuning out most of the repeating lectures Hermione tried to give them on the subject after the first week.

He put all his energy in keeping his expression neutral, nodding every once in awhile, but not hearing a word she was saying. When she was finally done, Harry suppressed a sigh of relief as she set to work on decoding the Mermish script.

“I’m gonna go get a cup of tea,” Harry said, standing up. The room was getting too hot and he needed a moment to pull it together.

“I’ll join you. Granger, would you like us to bring you anything back?” Draco said, standing, causing Harry’s heart to beat a little faster.

“No, thank you,” Hermione said with a furrowed brow, not looking up from her parchment.

Harry quickly headed towards the door, feeling Draco’s presence right behind him. They walked through several hallways until Harry felt himself pulled to the side and found himself in one of the smaller, seldom used, conference rooms.

Draco closed the door and pushed Harry against it, crowding up against him. “I have no idea anything Granger just said.” Draco laughed as he leaned in, meeting Harry’s lips firmly. They kissed and groped, and Harry completely lost track of time, having no sense of anything outside of how Draco felt on his lips and how his body felt pressed up against his.

Finally, some time later, Draco pulled back, leaning his forehead against Harry’s. “We should get back.”

Harry huffed a laugh. “Do we have to?”

“Probably. We could always stop today a little earlier, though.” Draco ran a hand up Harry’s side, causing him to shiver slightly.

“Yeah- let’s do that.”

Draco stepped back and they both straightened their robes, smoothing down the now rumpled fabric.

Opening the door, Draco gave Harry a crooked smile, and Harry took a deep breath. It took every ounce of energy not to shove Draco into the nearest empty office or cupboard on the walk back. He just had to get through the day, and they’d have the whole evening together.

Harry pulled the door open, letting Draco walk through first, and they sat back down at the conference table across from Hermione. She glanced up briefly when they sat. Harry looked over at the parchments in front of her. She appeared to have made it through one of the pages and was starting on the second one. She paused again and looked back up, slower this time.

“I thought you were getting tea?” she asked.

Harry froze. “Oh, erm-”

“We drank it in the break area. I wanted to stretch my legs for a minute,” Draco answered. “We’ve been sitting so much lately, working on this.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him slightly, looking back and forth between them, but then finally nodded and went back to work.

Harry tried to let out his relieved sigh silently, bouncing his leg slightly under the table. He felt a hand on his knee and Draco looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. Harry stopped bouncing and tried to act normal. It was going to be a long day.

But Draco didn’t remove his hand from his knee, and Harry felt his mouth curl up into a small smile. They stayed like that for what felt like an hour while Hermione finished scribing the parchments. Harry felt the room getting warm again, the air thick with tension. He only hoped that Hermione couldn’t feel the change in atmosphere.

Finally she looked up. “Alright. I have three sheets ready for translation. Are you sure you two can translate these?”

Draco sighed. She asked this question every morning. “Yes, Granger. We’ve been translating these for at least a couple of months.”

She blinked several times. “Right, okay,” she said, sliding the parchment across the table.

Desperate for something to distract him from Draco’s warm hand still on his leg, Harry grabbed his parchment and pulled over one of the twice duplicated Ancient Veela reference books and a Romanian-English dictionary.

After some hesitation, Draco removed his hand to grab his reference books and uncap his ink. But, no sooner had Harry breathed a sigh of relief that he might be able to concentrate for a minute that Draco’s hand was back, now slightly higher on his thigh. Harry stole a glance at him out of the corner of his eye and saw the ghost of a smirk on the other man. It was going to be a  _ very _ long day.

They worked like that for hours, Draco occasionally resting his hand higher or lower on Harry’s leg, but never leaving it for long. By lunch, Harry had been half hard for the better part of the day and was ready to scream from frustration. Scream... or push Draco down on the conference table and take him right then and there.

Hermione was always unpredictable at lunch. Since they were translating different pages every day, she would either need a break and join them for lunch, be too wrapped up in a particular problem and have them just bring her back a sandwich, or she would be nearly done with her first page and again join them for lunch. Harry desperately hoped she was focused on a particularly difficult translation as lunch neared.

Draco spoke first. “I’m going to go down to the canteen. Granger, would you like me to grab you anything while I’m down there?”

She looked up and tucked a few wayward curls behind her ears. “I think I’ll actually join you if that’s alright. I need a break.”

Harry let out a breath and Draco squeezed his leg, possibly agreeing in frustration, possibly reminding Harry to keep it together. While Hermione wouldn’t remember any of this during the next loop, Harry didn’t think either of them were particularly inclined to inform her of the newest development in their relationship.

Draco finally removed his hand from Harry’s leg, and Harry felt a loss at the sudden lack of contact.

They straightened a few of their parchments and made their way to the canteen. Harry vaguely was aware that Hermione was going on about something about Ancient Veela, but couldn’t bring himself to focus as he walked next to Draco, their hands brushing every few steps.

Somehow, Harry made it through lunch, sitting in the far seat from Draco at the table much to the man’s annoyance. By late-afternoon, Draco had stepped up his game, no longer content to just rest his hand on Harry’s thigh. He had instead moved onto gently massaging his thigh, occasionally brushing against his inner thigh, causing Harry to have to suppress a shiver. His hand was also working steadily upward, no longer anywhere near his knee. Harry wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

As Draco got closer and closer to Harry’s crotch, he could feel his face flushing.

“Harry?”

Harry looked up at Hermione. “Yeah?”

“I asked you a question. Are you alright?” she asked, looking concerned.

“What? Yes! I mean I’m fine.”

Her eyes narrowed at him and flicked between him and Draco. Her lips thinned and she got the look she had whenever she was trying to solve a particularly vexing problem.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed suddenly.

“What?” Harry asked, panicked.

“You two! How did I not notice?!” she exclaimed.

Harry felt his face get even hotter. “What?”

Draco’s hand froze on Harry’s thigh.

Suddenly she burst out laughing and Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands. She knew. She definitely knew.

“How long?” she looked at them, still looking surprised.

“What are you going on about, Granger?” Draco asked with a huff as he tried to subtly pull his hand back to his own lap.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and gave Draco a look.

“You know,” Harry said loudly, making a show of checking his watch. “It’s nearly six already. We should probably call it a night.” Harry stood up and gave Draco a pointed look.

“Right. See you tomorrow, Granger.”

Hermione opened her mouth to say something more, but Harry bolted through the door, not bothering to help her clean up this time. Draco was right behind him.

A lift arrived right as they got there.

They made their way on the lift and edged to the back wall as several other exhausted looking Ministry workers also entered. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see that Draco was keeping his focus straight ahead on the doors. He snuck a glance and saw an amused expression on his face. A few more people entered at the next floor and Harry used the tight quarters as an excuse to slide just a little closer to Draco, their hands gently brushing.

Harry felt Draco’s pinky loop around his own and he felt his heart speed up. He gave Draco’s pinky a quick squeeze, trying to keep a ridiculous grin off his face. He was in so much trouble. He felt like a teenager with a crush, all goofy smiles and butterflies in his stomach.

As they waited for everyone else to get out of the lift on the Atrium level, an impatience hummed through Harry’s body. They made it through the winding path around the sculpture in record time.

When they got to the floos, Draco leaned in. “Come back to mine?”

Harry nodded and followed him quickly through the flames.

No sooner did Harry get his footing at Draco’s flat as he was pushed against the wall, Draco kissing him roughly.

“Today was the longest fucking day,” Draco said between kisses on Harry’s neck as he made quick work of both their robes, tossing them generally towards the sofa.

Harry backed him towards the sofa until Draco fell back into a seated position. Harry dropped to his knees determined to finish what he’d tried to start that morning, still wanting to taste the other man. Draco looked down at him through heavily lidded eyes as Harry worked his fly open, pulling out his already half hard cock and gently stroking it until he was fully aroused.

He leaned in and slowly licked from the base to the head, pulling a moan out of Draco. He then slowly took him in, teasing with light pressure and a swirling tongue until Draco was starting to writhe beneath him. Harry smiled around him and then picked up both the speed and pressure at the same time.

“Ngggghhhh.” Draco threw his head back and threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair.

Harry hummed a note of approval and took him even farther in, slowly adjusting as best he could. Harry felt his own cock, hard and strained against his jeans, and decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He quickly undid the button and zipper with his free hand and pulled himself off roughly.

Soon Draco was babbling nonsense above him, saying “Harry” between every few strings of curses and things that sounded vaguely like praise and compliments. Suddenly he tensed up slightly and Harry took him in deep, working through his orgasm, and speeding up his own hand to chase his own release. When Draco finally whimpered, likely from overstimulation, Harry finally leaned back keeping his eyes locked with Draco, and with two more pulls was coming over his own hand.

Draco grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him up on top of his lap, kissing him gently. They stayed like that for some time, kissing slowly, hands wandering gently over still sensitive skin, pulling goosebumps and the occasional shiver from each other. Now that he was calming down from the pure lust of the day, Harry was more aware of the tight feeling in his chest that he recognised as fear. He had no idea what this was to Draco; they’d rushed into this so fast. All he could feel was want and desire, but his brain kept pushing through questioning whether this was a terrible idea and wondering if it would explode in both their faces. They had both just managed to start getting along, how was this meant to work?

Eventually, Harry leaned back slightly and looked at Draco, unsure of what he would see.

Draco’s hair was messed up, sticking out at several points, his lower face and lips red from Harry’s stubble, his eyes slightly glazed over, and Harry reassessed how much trouble he was in. He was well and truly fucked. He knew at once that his heart wouldn’t get out of this one intact—there would be no slow realisation that he wasn’t really that attached or that he just wasn’t that interested like so many of his other relationships.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hi,” Draco responded with a soft smile.

“How do you feel about delivery for dinner?” Harry asked, not wanting to leave for even a minute, but starting to feel mild hunger pains creeping in.

“Will this allow us to stay naked for the rest of the evening?” Draco asked, lips curving into a smile.

“Well, I’ll probably need to put something on when I answer the door for the delivery person. I’m not sure they would appreciate me just standing there naked.” Harry laughed.

“Well they clearly have no taste then if they can’t appreciate that,” Draco replied.

Harry finally climbed up and found his boxer briefs, slipping them on, and then realized a problem with his plan. “Oh, crap- I don’t suppose you have a mobile,” he said with a sigh.

“A what now?” Draco asked, still spread out on the sofa.

“It’s a phone—a way to call and order takeaway. I keep mine at home since it doesn’t work in the Ministry anyway.”

“Does this mean we have to get dressed?” Draco asked with a huff. “I like this plan less by the minute.”

“Tell you what—I’ll run out real quick and pick something up. How’s that?” Harry sifted through the clothes strewn around the room, finding his jeans and t-shirt.

“I suppose that’s fine. Hurry back though,” he said, looking entirely put out.

Harry smiled as he pulled his shirt on and leaned over for a kiss. “I’ll be quick.”

Draco pulled him back in his lap and deepened the kiss immediately. “Food really is overrated, you know,” Malfoy said between kisses and Harry let himself be pushed back down to the sofa.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke to the sound of his alarm on his wand and opened his eyes groggily. He laid there for a moment, slowly waking up, as memories of the past day and evening slowly came back to him. He felt a smile curve over his lips as he remembered the details.

He had eventually managed to extricate himself from Draco long enough to get takeaway, and they spent the rest of the evening without clothes, at Draco’s insistence, eating dinner, kissing and having copious amounts of sex. They never managed to get to the bedroom and eventually collapsed on the sofa in exhaustion, curling around each other until the loop reset.

It was perfect.

Harry finally dragged himself from bed.

A short time later, he exited the floo and started walking towards the sculpture. Confused, he checked his watch, the purple witch hadn’t run into him. He wondered if he’d accidentally taken longer getting ready than normal—he was generally incredibly consistent with his morning routines. His watch read 7:53. She should have been there.

He walked towards the sculpture, a frown on his face as he tried to work out what could have happened. As he got closer, he looked up and saw Draco standing there, leaning up against the welcome desk with a smile on his face.

“Hi,” Harry said, surprised as he approached him.

“Morning,” Draco replied with a wide smile.

Harry looked back at the floos and back at Draco. “The purple robed witch didn’t run into me. I always get run into every morning.”

“I know. You’ve told me. I told her that she was needed on the 4th level.”

Harry let out a surprised laugh. “Really?”

“I thought you could use a break.” Draco said. They stood there for a minute and Harry realized he must look like an idiot just standing there staring at the man with a grin on his face. He wasn’t sure he cared. Eventually Draco turned and nodded his head towards the lifts and they turned towards the path around the sculpture.

Harry looked at him and smiled, falling in step next to him. As they turned around the last corner of the sculpture path, a Wizard came barrelling at them, coffee cup in hand, and ran right into Draco.

“Oh no! Oh, I’m so sorry,” the Wizard said.

Harry couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. The Wizard looked over at him in surprise, but Harry was bent over laughing deeply and couldn’t stop. They’d taken too long at the desk.

The Wizard raised his wand before Harry could stop him and tried to cast a cleaning spell on Draco, quickly lighting a small patch of his designer robes on fire.

“Oh, oh no- sorry when I get nervous sometimes...” The Wizard started patting out the small fire on Draco’s chest in a panic.

“Stop! Just-” Draco took out his wand and hurriedly cast a flame extinguishing charm followed by several cleaning charms where the coffee had been.

“I’m so sorry!” The Wizard exclaimed, looking mortified as he looked back and forth between an angry looking Draco and Harry, who was still doubled over, now in a full-blown giggling fit.

“Just go,” Draco grit out between his teeth. Harry straightened up, gasping for air, feeling tears gathering in the corners of his eyes from the fit of laughter.

Draco crossed his arms, waiting for Harry to pull it together. “Are you quite done?”

“I’m-” Harry burst out with another laugh and then cleared his throat trying to calm down. “I’m sorry, I’m done.” He could feel his lips still quirking up in a smile, outside of his control.

“Some gratitude you’ve got there, Potter, after I came down here to save you from your endlessly repeating morning.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, still smiling. “I absolutely appreciate you coming down here and keeping me from getting run into. It... it made my morning, actually,” he said, snorting a laugh as he visualised Draco being run into by coffee-guy again.

Draco huffed and stalked off. “See if I help you again!” He hollered over his shoulder.

Harry rushed to catch up. “No, really I do appreciate it. I’m sorry, it was just- sorry,” he said more sincerely this time.

Malfoy looked at him with a narrowed eye and then nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll expect you to make it up to me later.”

Harry smiled mischievously. “I’m sure I can figure something out.” He bumped into him gently, getting a huff of a laugh out of the other man.

“Think we’ll make it to seven tonight?” Harry asked as they entered the lift, ignoring the looks of Ministry workers at the two of them having friendly conversation.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “Want to make it interesting?”

“What does that mean?”

“Just a little wager,” Draco said with a smirk.

“Wager on what?” Harry asked with growing concern.

“On whoever cracks first, needing to call off the work day.”

Memories of Draco teasing him with gentle touches on his leg the whole previous loop came into his mind and he groaned and felt his cock stir slightly. This was a terrible idea. This was a particularly terrible idea with Hermione sitting across from them the whole time. Although, it wasn’t as if she would remember any of it, Harry reasoned to himself. Still he felt himself flush at the idea that she might catch them.

“What does the winner get?” Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hmm... money doesn’t make any sense. How about an evening of their choice? Whatever they want to do.” Draco smiled mischievously.

“You’re on,” Harry said.

Draco looked over at him in surprise and then gave him such a predatory smile that nearly made Harry take a step back. At least this loop wasn’t looking to be boring.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm off work for a little over a week starting tomorrow morning, so I am taking a break from all obligations! Including editing and posting. With that in mind, here's the next chapter a few days early. Enjoy! :-)

Harry washed his hands, splashing some water on his face.

They’d managed to make it through lunch and most of the afternoon before they both really started to escalate this ridiculous bet. When they first got to the conference room in the morning, Draco had nabbed the seat on the right on Harry, freeing up his non-dominant hand for messing with Harry all morning, slowly teasing him into a frenzy, so far touching him everywhere he could reach except where Harry desperately wanted.

After lunch, for which Hermione annoyingly joined them once again, Harry made sure to enter the room last, taking the seat on the other side of Draco. Since both of them were right-handed, one of them would either have to completely give up on the pretense of translating the Ancient Veela text, surely clueing Hermione in on something, or only one of them could really mess with the other at a time.

This worked well for Harry for the first couple hours after lunch as he slowly dragged his free hand up and down Draco’s thighs, brushing up against his cock just enough to keep it stirring for hours. It worked, at least until Draco slipped his wand under the table and started casting some sort of a sensory spell on Harry, making his skin overreact to even the gentle movement of his clothes on his skin every time he moved slightly. The spell was subtle enough to allow Harry to continue working, or at least look like he was working, as he was being slowly driven past his limit. It was almost bearable... if he just stayed absolutely perfectly still.

Finally, Harry excused himself to the toilets and cast a  _ finite incantatem _ on himself, knowing full well that Draco was going to just recast it when he stepped back in the room. He thought for a minute of pulling himself off in one of the stalls, alleviating some of the pressure in his jeans, but he wasn’t sure he could manage knowing his co-workers were in there doing their business. He was quickly finding those past couple days that an exhibitionist he was not.

Hermione amazingly had not figured out what they were up to so far, although she had been looking at them with increasingly narrowed eyes as the day went on. She definitely knew something was off, but hadn’t seemed to yet put it all together. 

Harry walked back in to see Draco standing up stretching, looking at the parchments tacked up on the walls behind Hermione, who was still scribbling away. He turned around when Harry entered the room and gave him a positively evil grin behind Hermione’s back. Harry stood there, trying to figure out his next move.

“You alright, Harry?” Hermione looked up.

“Erm- yes. Fine.” Harry cleared his throat and wondered if he moved to the end of the table if that would be considered a forfeit. Hermione kept looking at him as he stood there, probably waiting for him to either say something or sit down. Knowing there was no way Draco was going to sit first, Harry sat back down with a huff and pulled the books over to him.

A moment later, Draco casually wandered back to his seat and flicked his wand to send his books and parchment two seats over to the seat on the other side of Harry. Hermione looked up, expression mildly confused. Draco sat down and stretched and got back to work, keeping a slight distance from Harry. After another beat, Hermione finally looked back down and got back to work.

Harry felt a spell wash over him and his skin get a little warm. His skin felt very subtly like small feathers were being dragged over the surface. He shifted slightly in reaction and the spot where his briefs dragged slightly over his cock felt like it a million little soft touches, only firmer and more intense than the sensation over the rest of his skin. He jumped slightly from the sensation and felt it mirrored all over his body, everywhere skin or fabric touched skin. Oh god, he realized quickly, this was much worse than the earlier spell Draco had used—the sensations just never let up.

He wondered how Draco even knew all these damn spells, then felt a flair of jealousy that he’d used this on someone else for this purpose. Well, maybe not this exact purpose, but in a generally sexual situation with another man. Harry then felt briefly irritated that he didn’t know  _ any _ spells subtle enough for this game they were playing. He continued to think hard if he knew anything at all that would work in this situation, but kept drawing a blank. Most of his charms knowledge was defensive and offensive, and, while he was currently beyond sexually frustrated, he didn’t want to knock Draco out cold... yet.

Harry was quickly pulled out of his thoughts when Draco’s hand was back on his thigh, lighting up the whole area in fireworks of sensation with the help of the spell. He squirmed, which only intensified the sensations all over the rest of his body. A whimper escaped his lips.

“Harry, are you alright?” Hermione looked up at him, concern in her eyes.

“No, it’s not- I mean yes, I just... just a erm- frustrating section of text.” He felt a small bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. He was not going to make it.

“Ok, do you need a break?” she asked.

“Yes, Potter. Do you need a break?” Draco asked in challenge, a smirk barely contained on his face.

“No. I’m fine. I can handle it,” he replied firmly, knowing Draco would get the double meaning.

Hermione nodded and got back to work. Harry snuck a glance at Draco and saw the corner of his mouth curl up ever so slightly as he kept diligently translating his page of text.

Harry dipped his quill in more ink and made it through three more words before Draco’s hand was back, causing him to press too hard on the quill, splotching the ink everywhere. He bit his lip and tried to keep silent as Draco’s hand very slowly snaked its way up Harry’s leg, fingertips dragged along his inner thigh. Only this time, they didn’t stop moving upward and brushed Harry’s crotch, causing the exploding sensation to spread over his cock. He jumped back as he bit back a groan as his cock filled out rapidly. His entire body broke out in goosebumps from the movement and his clothing moving all over his skin.

Hermione looked up, surprised at the motion.

“Sorry. I can’t- I-” he looked at Draco, who was badly hiding a smile behind his hand. “Erm, sorry Hermione- we’ll do more tomorrow.” Harry jumped up and bolted out of the conference room, cancelling the spell on himself as he walked down the hallway, turning the corner and stopping next to the door of a small empty conference room. He leaned up against the wall and took a minute to get control of his breathing. He was rock hard and could still feel the ghost of the light touches all over his overstimulated skin.

A moment later Draco came around the corner with an entirely too smug grin on his face.

“I hate you so much,” Harry said, knowing that the smile on his face softened the words.

“No, you don’t.” Draco laughed.

“No, I don’t.” Harry’s hand shot forward and grabbed Draco’s arm, pulling him in the empty conference room next to them. He shut the door and sent locking and silencing charms at it in quick succession. Draco raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t hate you, but if you don’t fuck me right now, I  _ am _ going to hex you. And, I might not know fancy sex magic like you, but I know plenty of damage causing ones.” Harry said, with a smile, crowding Draco back to the table.

“Fancy sex magic?” Draco repeated with a laugh.

“Oh piss off.” Harry smiled and flicked his wand at himself, sending his clothes flying off, causing the other man to jump in surprise.

Harry then tilted his head in question at Draco, who nodded with a smile. Aimed at him, he sent Draco’s clothes to join Harry’s, crumpled on the floor. Draco shot him an annoyed look.

“Harry. You really need to learn how to do this spell properly. The clothes are supposed to fold themselves in a pile.”

“We are not doing charms lessons right now,” Harry said, grinding his hips against Draco’s. “I didn’t even know I could be hard for that long, and that last spell was just evil”

Draco laughed. “Is that so?” He leaned in, capturing Harry’s lips, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him tight.

A half hour later, Harry peeked out of the conference room to check that it was clear.

“Harry- for the last time, even if someone catches us,  _ they won’t remember it _ ,” Draco said behind him with a huff.

Harry turned and whispered, “I don’t care! It’s weird- I don’t want people knowing we just fucked in the conference room! I’ll never be able to look at them the same, even if they don’t remember.”

Draco shoved Harry lightly, causing him to stumble into the hallway. “I am not sneaking around the Ministry like we’re out after curfew at Hogwarts. We both work here. Just walk towards the lifts, and we can leave.”

Harry got his footing and straightened out, smoothing out his robes and trying to look natural. Draco closed the conference room door as he walked into the hallway and gave Harry an unimpressed look.

“What? We’re at work!” Harry exclaimed as they walked towards the lifts.

“We are at work while stuck in a time loop which means no one but us is going to remember a damn thing tomorrow,” Draco said dryly.

Before Harry could ask him why he was out of sorts about this, the lift arrived and they entered with the other Ministry workers leaving for the day. A couple Aurors gave Harry a nod as they entered the lift. Harry leaned up against the back wall, next to Draco—occasionally sneaking glances at the man who still looked irritated.

The lift ride took an exceptionally long time as it stopped on every single floor until they finally arrived at the Atrium.

Draco stepped in front of Harry and headed towards the statue path, moving through the crowd of workers all trying to leave. Harry picked up his pace to catch up, looking over at him.

“Draco, what in Merlin’s sake is going on?” Harry asked quietly. “I don’t understand why you care if I don’t want people to know that I’m having sex in a Ministry conference room!”

Draco huffed. “Is that the reason?”

Harry stopped and turned to him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I wouldn’t want you to tarnish your perfect reputation by people finding out about us even for just  _ several  _ hours before the loop resets,” Draco bit out.

“What? No! It’s not about us! It’s about sex  _ in the office _ ,” Harry lowered his voice, not wanting anyone to overhear this conversation.

“Right. Whatever you say.” Draco turned to leave.

“What? Just stop!” Harry grabbed his arm.

Shrugging him off, Draco said, “Forget it Potter. Let’s just forget the whole thing happened and get back to work tomorrow.”

Harry’s stomach dropped out and in a final act of desperation, he pulled Draco close and kissed him hard. He could sense the  _ many _ Ministry workers still walking around them, through the open space between the lifts and the statue, and heard a quiet buzzing of whispers start around them.

He finally pulled back. Draco looked somewhere between dazed and shocked.

“It’s nothing to do with you,” Harry said firmly.

“Right,” Draco replied, weakly.

“Come on,” Harry said, as he threaded his fingers through Draco’s and gently pulled him towards the floo.

The crush of people became worse as they got to the path everyone was forced into around and through the statue. Harry stuck close to Draco, hand held tight, ignoring the whispers and stares with his chin held high. He hated people talking about him, and he hated people knowing his personal business, but he knew he needed to show Draco that it didn’t matter. He was not going to lose whatever this thing was that they had, or could have, over something as stupid as Ministry gossip.

“Dinner?” Harry asked as they neared the floos.

“Sure,” Draco said with a small smile, squeezing Harry’s hand before letting go.

Harry called out for the Leaky Cauldron and was shortly joined by Draco. They wandered out of the pub into the mild, summer evening, dumping their robes in a nearby bin, much to Draco’s annoyance.

To Harry’s surprise, Draco slid his hand back in Harry’s as soon as they were walking down the pavement in Muggle London. He felt his heart swell, and hoped to every possible deity that they didn’t run into any homophobic Muggles that night. That wasn’t exactly the kind of Muggle lessons he wanted to share with Draco, particularly tonight when all of this was so new. The Wizarding community had their own bigotry—particularly in pure-blood circles where marrying for offspring was more valued and expected, but Harry hadn’t seen the outward hostility he knew existed in the Muggle world.

He channeled his Gryffindor bravery and held on tight. A few blocks later, they walked by a new Gastropub they hadn’t tried yet. Draco leaned over the menu on the window. Draco was generally open to trying new things, but once he made a decision on something, he rarely changed his mind, so Harry always let him make the first call.

“This will work,” Draco said, stepping back so Harry could take a look. Harry didn’t really care where they ate tonight. He was still feeling fairly giddy about the events of the past two days, and would have been happy with leftover pizza in an alley as long as Draco kept holding his hand and looking at him softly.

Harry smiled and opened the door.

Once seated, Draco kept glancing over the menu at Harry.

“What?” Harry finally asked with a sigh.

“So, it really just was people finding out about office sex?” Draco asked.

Harry refrained from a loud sigh. “Yes, it was about people we work with knowing we were having sex  _ at work _ .”

“But they wouldn’t remember!” Draco exclaimed.

“I know! But, I would know!” Harry said, removing his glasses to run a hand over his face.

Draco started laughing softly. “Well, I never took you for a prude, Potter.”

“I am not a prude! I just don’t like the idea of people knowing about my sex life,  _ especially _ people at work!” Harry cleaned his glasses on his t-shirt and put them back on.

“And you are okay with people outside of work knowing?” Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry sighed in exasperation. “No. Not really.”

Draco looked at him for a minute, no longer laughing. “Why?”

“I don’t really know. It probably has something to do with how I’m always followed around. It just seems like everyone else thinks they have a right to my personal life. I hate it—all of it—the attention, the lack of privacy. It’s none of their business, and this is especially not their business.” Harry bit his lip, hoping Draco didn’t make fun.

Draco nodded. “Okay.”

Too many men Harry had dated couldn’t really understand, but he thought Draco just might actually get it. Harry let out a breath and felt a small smile curve over his lips.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up to the sound of his alarm on his wand and groaned.

He had been at Draco’s, in his bed, just looking at each other.

Over the past few weeks, they’d gotten a bit more careful about planning the timing of their evenings after they were very rudely interrupted one evening mid-coitus by the reset. 

It had been quite unnerving to go from on the precipice of what was promising to be an outstanding orgasm to being back in his own bed, alone, not a bit aroused. They both vowed to never lose track of time like that again and quickly made up for it with office sex.

At first, he was almost relieved that the time loop put him back in bed every morning. It saved the awkward conversations about whether Draco wanted him to spend the night, or wanted to stay the night at Harry’s. But after weeks of this, Harry hated this. He hated never getting to sleep next to him, never waking up next to him, never getting to see what he looked like all rumpled and groggy in the morning.

It probably shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Harry, but things between them had gotten intense fast. Every evening they took every minute they could together. Perhaps it was knowing how limited their evenings were, feeling the pressure of the inevitable reset of the loop, but every moment felt heavy with emotion. In every look and touch, there was want and lust and passion and challenge and something else, something deeper that neither of them were ready to face.

But every morning, Harry still awoke alone.

He sighed and pulled himself out of bed and toward the shower. They were making progress with the translations. They lost a few days of productivity when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, but eventually they settled down and managed to, well, mostly keep their hands to themselves until after hours.

Even though they were making progress, Harry had no idea if it would be enough. They were putting so much stake in the journal holding the key to this whole thing, and really they had no idea if it had anything useful. Hermione had pointed out when Harry had voiced this concern some days ago that they still had far more information about all of it than when they started. Even if it didn’t have the answer, they at least had some clues they could track down.

Harry exited the floo, his eyes immediately focusing on the welcome desk where Draco stood, holding two cups of coffee from the Ministry canteen. 

The first time Draco had bought them for the express purpose of dumping them on coffee guy when they walked through the statue path. He even had made Harry wait long enough so that coffee guy would definitely be in the path and Draco could be sure to run into him. After several loops of this, Draco finally bored of it, and they made sure not to waste any time heading to the lifts so that they didn’t run into anyone. Purple-robe witch now spent every morning wandering around the 4th level looking for Clinton Sprigg who was supposedly looking for her.

Harry smiled as he walked up to Draco, taking the offered coffee and heading towards the lift.

Even weeks later, Harry found himself sneaking small glances at Draco every morning, still barely believing his luck. Their relationship had the added bonus of helping both their moods as they endlessly translated that blasted journal. Harry was slightly concerned for when the newness wore off—not that he thought their relationship was only based on that, he knew they had built this on a surprising but still solid friendship. But he still worried that the frustration and depression about their current situation was likely to sneak back in. Even on their good days, Harry could feel the tension they both had with every page they translated that didn't have a clear answer.

They were still learning likely important information from the journal. They’d learned, at least according to Blight, that the stone’s magic was tied into the Northern Lights and earth magic that was deeply tied to the poles. While he may have been paranoid and crazy, he really did seem to know his stuff.

Harry had re-interviewed Mrs Harris several times to learn everything she knew about Blight and his career. He was supposedly well respected in his field at several Wizarding Universities around the globe. Harry hoped to Merlin that if he figured out how to alter the stone that he not only wrote down what he did, but he also figured out how to get out of this situation. Hermione had done some additional research on him during one of the loops and found that he was, in fact, a world class historian. But Draco had pointed out that a charms and ritual expert he was not, which most likely is why Blight created this mess with the stone.

Draco opened the door to his office and Harry plopped down in his usual chair as Draco sent off his letter to Hermione.

She entered some time later, surprised by Harry’s presence as usual. Harry noticed that she seemed to be looking at him with more narrowed eyes as of late, and while she hadn’t had another dawning revolution to the nature of their relationship, she always seemed a little suspicious of them. Harry couldn’t tell if she suspected something or was just always surprised by their amiability.

Eventually after going through the motions with Robards again, they set to work in Conference Room B. Harry wondered if they could request another conference room at some point, just for a change of scenery—not that any of the conference rooms were particularly interesting to look at.

The pages that day seemed to be more about what Blight hoped to get out of this stone. It was absolutely clear at this point in the translations that he wanted to send his consciousness back to his younger self—he was hoping for his 20 year old self—and do it all over again. While this was possibly helpful information, as this was his personal journal, it also came with an abundant amount of whinging about how his life didn’t turn out like he’d hoped and how alone he was and how no one cared about him.

At this point, Harry didn’t want anything to do with him either, but unfortunately they were stuck reading with the desperate hope that he gave them the information they needed. Draco was getting increasingly agitated during their working hours. While Harry and their new relationship seemed to make him happy enough, or distracted enough in the evenings, he was struggling with his moods during the day.

A long suffering sigh came from besides Harry, pulling him out of his thoughts on exactly this issue. Draco looked frustrated and had clearly been running his hand through his hair all morning, as his hair was sticking up at several angles.

“Hey- you alright?” Harry asked.

“This is pointless.” Draco threw his quill down.

Hermione looked up with a frown. “How long have you been at this?”

Draco let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Fuck if I know.”

She looked at Harry; he shrugged unable to even hazard a guess at this point.

“That must be really difficult. I’m sure it’s incredibly frustrating going through the same thing day after day, but still it would be interesting to live without consequences,” she said.

Draco dropped his head to the table with a groan.

“You’ve said that before. A fair few times at this point, actually,” Harry said with an apologetic smile.

“Oh, have I?” she asked, blinking. “Why don’t we take a break? I could use some more tea, anyway.”

Harry nodded and she left the room, mug in hand.

He looked over at Draco, and put his hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles on it. “Are you going to be okay?”

Draco kept his head on the table, but turned his face towards Harry. “I have no idea anymore.”

Harry nodded and kept rubbing his back, hoping it was helping. “Would it help if you took some time off? I can keep working—I’ll even stay late, until the loop resets, to make up the difference in what you would have translated.”

“Harry- no. I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“I feel like I probably should, though. This really is my fault.” Harry bit his lip.

The feelings of guilt had only been getting stronger these past few weeks. They seemed to be directly correlated to his feelings for Draco. The more he fell for the man, the more terrible he felt about getting them into this mess. Even though he knew logically they wouldn’t have ever gotten together had they not been stuck with each other, he also couldn’t stand to see him so miserable. He was scared that if they never fixed it that it would mean he actually destroyed Draco’s life—taking away any chance at a life, at least, that he could have ever had. He didn’t think he’d be able to live with himself if that was the end result. So, he knew he’d do whatever he could to fix this. 

“Harry, stop.” Draco sat up, and Harry pulled his hand back. 

Draco reached for his hand and threaded his fingers through his. “Yes, you accidentally set off the stone, but you didn’t create the bloody thing. This is Blight’s fault. He fucked with magic he shouldn’t have been messing with and broke a powerful artifact in the process. What you did was an accident. I know I gave you a lot of shit about it, particularly at the beginning, but it was an accident, okay?” Draco traced Harry’s knuckles with his thumb, soothingly.

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Oh-”

Harry turned to see Hermione in the doorway, looking at their joined hands. Harry smiled and nodded almost imperceptibly at her unspoken question. After a beat, he slowly pulled his hand back.

She smiled and looked back and forth between them a few times before sitting back down.

“Okay. Shall we get back to it then?” she asked, dipping her quill in ink.

Harry looked at Draco with a small smile, he wished he could just fix this for him. Draco sighed softly but got back to work.

They’d keep going. They had no other choice.

Harry furrowed his brow in concentration as he finished the last line, trying to keep his excitement in check. He felt his heart sped up as he reread the page to make sure he understood it correctly.

This was it. Well, maybe not all of it, but Blight finally explained the spell he used to alter the stone and extend the time on it.

“Guys, I think I’ve got something here.” Harry got up and walked around the table to the far wall. He placed the page next to the pages from earlier that day and cast a sticking charm.

Draco and Hermione both stopped their work and came over.

“He used a spell meant for extending spells...  _ Aetus Exemplare _ ” Hermione said under her breath.

“I know this spell,” Draco said, still reading the parchment. “It’s meant for curses—or at least it’s often used for curses. It used to be sometimes used for charms as well, but it fell out of favour for charms some time ago.

“But, this... he’s got it wrong here. He said that it’s for extending the time of the curse, but that’s not quite right. It’s cast on something or someone who is already under a curse and, yes, it extends the time, but what it really does is duplicate the duration. It’s not-” Draco ran his hand through his hair.

“It makes it last longer, but not how he thinks it does. No wonder it- Oh, for fuck’s sake- any cursebreaker could have told him that! That fucking idiot!”

“What do you mean it duplicates the duration?” Harry asked.

“For time based spells, imagine that you have a spell that generally lasts one hour. If you cast  _ Aetus _ on it to make it last a whole day, then the curse will restart at the end of an hour and then after another hour it will restart again. So to reach a full day, it would restart 23 times. For a curse that was just meant to cause pain, you really wouldn’t notice, it would just be pain for 24 hours. But for a spell that changed over time, let’s say a curse that started with you growing hair out of your ears and then slowly progressed to other body parts for an hour, then when it reset, it would start with your ear hair again.”

“How do you cancel it?” Harry asked.

“You don’t! You break the curse, not the enhancement.” Draco started pacing around the room.

“If there’s a way to cancel it, I don’t know about it. Not only is it rarely used, the first thing you learn in curse-breaking is to always go after the curse not the enhancements. Messing with those while leaving the curse intact can have unintended consequences.

“I’ve only run across it a few times on cursed objects and both times I broke the curse, I didn’t touch the  _ Aetus _ . I didn’t even think to check for enhancement spells back in the shop—certainly not this one. I was so focused on finding a curse or hex on the object that was the cause of the loop. Fuck!”

“You said it duplicates the duration,” Hermione finally spoke up. “For how many times?”

“Well, however many times the caster wanted. If a curse that normally would last an hour was enhanced with this for the intention of it lasting a week, the duration would be duplicated for as many times as would last one full week. That’s why it might seem that it’s extending the time, and for most curses there wouldn’t be a noticeable restart. It would just seem to continue.”

“Is there anyone that might know more about this?” Hermione asked.

“I have no idea. It’s a difficult spell to master from everything I’ve read, so it’s not seen very often—mostly it’s found on antique cursed objects. I’m not even sure I’ve seen it on anything cursed within the last hundred years, actually. From how I understand it, the caster has to be able to conceptualise the time fairly concretely in their brain for the spell to work.”

“That means it has a duration, right? This spell can’t be for an indefinite amount of time?” Harry asked.

“Correct.”

“So that’s good right? Doesn’t that mean it will wear off?” Harry asked.

“Sure, eventually. But, Harry, do you remember how far Blight wanted to go back?”

“To when he was twenty years old.” Harry sat down, legs weak.

“Based on the dates of the journal, he was in his nineties when he was working on this. Provided he got the spell right, that’s 70 years. So, yes, it will wear off... after we’ve lived this day for 70 years.”

Draco stopped pacing and dropped into a chair, burying his head in his hands.

Any elation Harry had previously felt at finding the spell Blight had used dissipated, and he tried to fight back the panic now clawing at his chest.

“70 years,” Harry repeated.

“We’ll fix this. We will.” Hermione sat back down and started pulling parchment towards her. “Blight must have tried the device right? He must have figured out a way out of the loop.”

“What if he didn’t?” Harry asked. “He was over a hundred when he died, but what if he had to live out the entire loop before he was finally out of it? We would have no way of knowing if he lived an extra 70 years of loops in the middle of all that.”

“Well, we know he at least got out eventually, so maybe he wrote something about it. From everything you’ve told me that I’ve researched in previous loops, Blight was an intelligent academic. Surely, he found his way out of this. We just need to keep translating.” Hermione went back to work. 

“Right,” Harry said faintly as he stood up and walked back to his seat on the other side of the table. He had already finished his sheet, so he grabbed Draco’s and set back to work. Draco still sat hunched over with his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

Harry would keep going. He had to make this right.

Draco still hadn’t moved from his spot when Harry finished the page some time later. There was no more useful information there just Blight talking about being excited at all the things he was going to do differently this time.

Harry checked his watch; it was a quarter to eight in the evening. Fighting the desire to keep going until he could fix this, he walked over to Draco and rubbed his back. “You want to get out of here? Grab a quick bite?”

Draco looked up at him. “I just want to go home.”

With a sigh, Harry nodded. “Alright. I can stay here—finish up what we can for the night.”

“No- can you just... can you come with me?” Draco asked, sounding uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“Of course.”

Hermione stood up and turned to them. “I’m so sorry, guys. I wish I could get through this faster and find something useful.”

“Hermione, no- I know you don’t remember, but you’ve already helped us so much. Seriously, we wouldn’t even be this far without you. We have some actual real information now. We might not know what to do with it, but it’s more than we had yesterday, or, er- last loop.”

Draco huffed softly, but seemed to not be able to bring himself to even yell at Harry for correcting himself.

Harry walked over to Hermione and engulfed her in a hug. “I know you won’t remember this, but I don’t say it enough. Thank you so much for everything and thank you for believing us every morning and not sending us to St. Mungo’s for tests, and thank you for supporting us every single day though this.”

Tightening her arms around him, she firmly replied, “We’ll get through this, okay. You’ll get through this.”

Slowly loosening his grip around her, Harry stood back and sighed and then turned to Draco. “You ready?”

Draco stood up, stretching slightly and nodding as he walked out of the conference room door. Catching up to him, Harry threaded his fingers through Draco’s, temporary office gossip be damned. At the gesture, Draco looked over at him with a quirked eyebrow, but Harry just shrugged and kept walking towards the lifts.

They kept their hands wrapped together all the way to the floos, as Harry followed Draco to Grimmauld Place.

Once Harry gained his footing, he saw that Draco had beelined to the sofa and laid down, not even taking off his shoes, which was very unlike the man. Harry knelt down next to him. “Can I do anything for you? Pickup some dinner? Get you a glass of wine?”

Draco pulled him up on the sofa next to him. “Just stay here with me.”

“Of course. Just hold on a sec.” Sliding back off the sofa, Harry tossed off his Auror robes and trainers, and climbed back on the sofa. Draco twisted slightly and pulled the cream knit afghan off the back of the sofa, covering both of them up. It was a bit warm for that, but Harry thought Draco might need the comfort, so he didn’t complain, instead wrapping his arms around Draco.

Harry strained up, kissing Draco gently, and then nuzzled into his neck, letting himself relax to the sound of his breathing, the feel of his chest as it gently rose and fell. He felt safe and warm in his arms. 

With a start, Harry realized he finally had all he’d wanted. This was it. With Draco, it never felt forced. He knew right then that if they were out of the loop and Draco asked him to work less, he wouldn’t even hesitate. He knew that Draco would never even need to ask because Harry couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else. He could finally have a home. He felt his eyes prickling. Was it possible that fate would finally give him this and not actually let him have it? Would he be forever stuck in a facsimile of the life he wanted—finally finding his person, but not being able to build a life together because tomorrow never came? Focusing on Draco’s breathing, Harry pushed down the anger and nuzzled closer into his neck, breathing deeply, letting the smell of him, something woodsy and citrusy and also just Draco, soothe him.

They laid there, not talking, for over an hour until the loop reset. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to keep posting on Thursdays for the last few chapters. Enjoy!

Harry picked at his thumbnail as he rode the lift up to Level Two. In the Atrium, Harry had been met with the Purple-robed witch instead of Draco with their morning coffee, and Harry was worried he still wasn’t doing well.

The idea that the answer might not be in the journal made Harry nauseous, but he tried to reason that they at least had some clues. They had something to start with. Hermione recommended they finish the translation before they moved on to trying other avenues, afraid that they might miss an important detail if they gave up now.

Harry made his way to Draco’s office. He turned the doorknob, but it didn’t open. It was always open in the morning.

“Draco?” Harry knocked on the door.

There was no answer, so he knocked harder.

“Oh, he’s not here yet. You know how he is.”

Turning around, Harry found himself facing a very smug looking Milton Reeves.

“No, I don’t, actually. How is he exactly?” Harry asked.

“Oh, well- you know...” Reeves trailed off, perhaps sensing the anger radiating off Harry.

“Right,” Harry huffed and stalked away, glaring at Reeves until he was out of his line of sight.

Heading to his cubicle, Harry tried to work out the best course of action at this point. He felt like he needed to keep working on the journal. Draco seemed upset about the spell they determined had been used, but that didn’t mean that Blight hadn’t found a way to break it. And, they wouldn’t know until the rest of the pages were translated. Part of him wanted to drop everything and just go spend the day with Draco. They hadn’t had another full day off since the day Harry lit his desk on fire, but they were so close. Harry had a feeling that Draco had been on the verge of a breakdown for weeks, and Harry was becoming consumed with his need to fix this. 

After sending off a note to Hermione, Harry send off another note to the mailroom to get sent out with external mail to check on Draco. While Harry really wanted to just go over to his flat and check on him, he thought it might be a better use of his time if he could make more headway. They had to be getting close. 

Hoping this morning didn’t lead to him back to St. Mungo’s, Harry leaned back in his chair, mind spinning through what he’d need to do to get the day started right. Ron would be arriving at any moment, which would just complicate things further. It would have been easier if Harry could have just went to Hermione’s office, but he didn’t have that kind of clearance.

Not a moment later, Ron popped into the cubicle, container of scones in hand.

“Try this,” he said, shoving the now open container in front of Harry’s face.

“Hey, mate. Look- can you sit down? I need to talk to you about something and I think I’m going to need your help today,” Harry said, casting a  _ Muffliato _ around their cubicle.

“Yeah, sure, of course.” Ron sat.

Over the next few minutes, Harry explained the whole situation, how it started, what they had been working on with the translation and everything they knew about the book. 

“So, Hermione is going to be here in a minute and I need to convince her to convince Robards that we need to work on this. Normally, I leave this part to Draco because he explains it better.”

Ron looked at him for a moment and then said, “I think we should probably go to St. Mungo’s and get you checked out first—just in case this is a curse at work here... you know, making you think you are repeating the same day.”

“Ron, mate. No. We’ve done this, we’ve been through this. You, personally, have taken me there at least four times. They are not going to find anything,” Harry said, willing himself to stay calm.

“Right. Okay. Right.” Ron’s brows were furrowed, looking like he was trying to work through all the information Harry just dumped on him. “Okay.”

“Sorry. I know this is a lot to process.”

“Right. Yes. I have some questions, a lot of questions, but I’m just going to start with this one even though it’s probably the least critical... Since when is Malfoy, Draco?” Ron asked.

“Erm- well, er. Since we started dating? That would be... I don’t know, maybe a month ago? a few weeks ago? I’m not really sure how long.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, face heating up.

“I’m sorry- what? Dating? As in  _ dating _ ?” Ron asked.

“Well, erm- yes?”

Ron buried his face in his hands with a groan. “Okay, sure.”

“Can we get back to the whole actual time loop problem? Please?” Harry knew his face was probably bright red by then, and worse, if they ever got out of the loop, he’d just have to do it all over again.

Just then, Hermione walked into their cubicle. Harry dropped the  _ Muffliato  _ and recast it to include her, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“What’s going on?” she asked, looking curious.

Harry re-explained all the events of the past several months, ignoring Ron’s look when he talked about  _ Draco  _ for too long. 

“Wow- that’s...” she trailed off, looking deep in thought. “How long has it been?”

Running a hand through his hair, Harry sighed. “I have no idea, Hermione. We lost track so long ago. It’s been months, that’s all I can tell you.”

She whistled low. “Okay, so what do you need from me? You said we’ve been translating this journal?”

“I need you to convince Robards to let us work on this all day and we need to keep translating.”

“Where’s Malfoy today?” Ron asked.

“He’s well- I’m not sure, I sent him an owl, but based on yesterday, I’d imagine he’s taking a loop off. He was pretty upset when we found out how Blight had altered the stone.”

Hermione nodded. “Understandable. This sounds like you two have been in an incredibly stressful situation. I’m glad to hear you both sound like you are working together and finally getting along as well.”

Ron snorted and Hermione looked over at him in question.

“You gonna tell her?”

“Oh for- fine. We’re... together.”

“Together? As in dating?” Hermione asked, eyebrows shooting into her hairline.

“Yes, dating. Can we get on with this please?” Harry huffed.

A small smile quirked on Hermione’s lips. “Of course,” she said, as she shared a look with Ron.

After an annoyingly long meeting with Robards, apparently Draco’s presence and agreement had been speeding along the Head Auror’s belief in the story he was being told, Harry found himself back in Conference Room B with Hermione. Ron had wanted to help, but Harry thought it would take him longer to get up to speed than they had time for. Though, Harry did take him up on the offer to go get the journal for them.

As Harry worked through yet another difficult line of text, he heard the conference room door creak and looked to the side to see a letter fluttering in towards him. It looked to be from the mailroom—those letters always had a distinctive flutter.

Opening the seal, he saw it was from Draco. He was staying home and just wanted a day off. No, he didn’t need company, and he’d be back to work tomorrow. Harry felt his heart clench, still struggling with guilt for having gotten them both into this mess and wanting to do nothing more than go and comfort his boyfriend. He set aside the letter and redoubled his efforts at his translation.

By lunch, they’d completed four pages, far more than normal, with Harry working like his robes were on fire. Hermione focused on decoding the Atlantic Mermish script as Harry got through the translations. Skipping the words he didn’t know and couldn’t easily find, Harry was able to get through quite a few more pages. He figured they could focus on those in the afternoon.

He was so sick of that bloody journal. They’d moved past the pages with the drawings in them possibly a week ago and were well into Blight attempting to alter the device with enhancement spells.

“Do you want to stop and get something to eat?” asked Hermione as she put another two decoded pages in the middle of the table.

“No, you go on. I want to get through these.” 

Harry didn’t look up from where he was frantically translating.

“Okay- I’ll bring you something back.”

Harry nodded and kept working. Enough words were missing that he couldn’t be sure of what these pages said, but he was pretty sure that Blight had set back the device for just a few days to test it and found the same problem they had.

What felt like only a minute later, Hermione was coming back into the conference room, placing a takeaway container with a panini sandwich in front of Harry.

“Harry, you need to take a break.”

“I’m almost done with this last page.”

“You did another two while I was gone?” she asked, voice surprised.

He didn’t respond as he focused on the last two lines, just finishing up those last words.

Looking up, he blinked a few times to clear his eyes. They felt rough and dry. “I’m missing some words, if you would look over them.” He pushed the five pages he’d translated over to her.

“Okay, but only if you stop for a minute and take a break.”

Harry sighed, but nodded and pulled the sandwich towards him. Stretching his arms over his head, he felt his back pop in several spots and then started into his lunch while Hermione looked through reference books trying to find the missing words.

Exhaustion from the frenzy of translating all morning crept in while Harry ate his lunch slowly. There had to be a way to fix this. He couldn’t imagine that Blight, having run into the same problem, wouldn’t have found a way to fix it. It just didn’t make sense. Even if he didn’t figure out a way to get the device to work correctly, he must have figured out how to get out of the loop. Harry just couldn’t imagine how anyone remotely intelligent couldn’t have figured out a way if he’d had 70 years to work on the issue. They’d just need to keep translating. Perhaps it was the historian in him, but Blight seemed to have felt the need to record every single thought he had while working with this stone. While it had been annoying back when they had to read about the food he was eating, Harry was now grateful that they had some new information. Possibly even enough for a chance at a solution. He refused to give up hope yet. They’d find the answer in the journal, he was sure of it.

“Okay, I think I’ve got these first couple done. I’ve underlined the words I’m not entirely sure about—words he may have been using incorrectly, but it makes sense in context.” Hermione got up and tacked the pages on the wall in order.

Harry stood up and moved around the other side of the table, reading over Hermione’s shoulder. His stomach dropped as he read the parchments.

Leaning back against the table, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “So, he removed whatever magic was on the stone that tied the stone’s magic to the solstices.”

“That’s what it looks like,” Hermione said, still looking over the pages.

“So, there’s no enchantment on that, it’s just removed magic that we can’t put back.”

“It looks that way, yes.”

“And he set the time enhancement spell to three days to test it, and it didn’t work.”

“Right. It looks like he’s tried it three times so far, and none of them have worked.”

“And he hasn’t figured out a way out of it, he’s just lived through the loops.”

“Yes, but Harry, when the two of you set off the stone, it was obviously set for longer than 3 days, so maybe he figured something else out. Something had to have changed,” Hermione reasoned.

Harry scrubbed his face and let out a frustrated groan. “You’re right. I know you’re right—I just can’t help but worry that he didn’t. Okay let’s keep going.”

Hours later, Harry stood up and stretched. They’d kept the same system—Hermione decoding the Mermish, Harry quickly translating everything he knew off hand, which was considerable after all these months, and then Hermione and him coming back together to work through the difficult words and translations. They were moving much faster this way. For a moment, Harry worried they’d been wasting time all these months, going about it the wrong way, but then realized without those months he couldn’t have done that. He supposed if his Auror career was over after all this, if they got out of this mess, he could at least become an Ancient Veela language expert. Somehow he doubted that there were many job opportunities that required that expertise.

Hermione stuck the next six pages up on the wall, and they both read through them.

“He’s not figuring it out, Hermione,” Harry said, voice tight.

“I know,” she said, biting her nails, one of her tells that she was very stressed.

“Arghhh!” Harry tossed his glasses on the table and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Picking up the journal, he flipped through the pages. They had maybe twenty or thirty left.

“Okay. We can’t finish this tonight Harry, we just can’t- go home and get some rest, okay? Even if it’s not in here, we’ll find a way.” She put her arm around him and rubbed his back slowly.

Nodding, he let out a long sigh. “Okay.” He checked his watch; it was already a quarter to nine. If he hurried, he could stop by and see Draco. The thought of being held by his boyfriend sounded wonderful after the day he’d had, but then he thought about having to tell Draco of the progress, or lack thereof, that they’d made all day. He’d tell him tomorrow. Harry didn’t have it in him to give Draco any more bad news.

After helping Hermione gather up her reference books and parchment, he headed home, not bothering to pick up dinner.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry stepped out of the floo and scanned the Atrium, seeing Draco standing near the welcome desk with two coffees in his hands. He looked better than he had for the past week, his face slightly more relaxed. Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry headed towards him.

“Hey,” Harry said, leaning up and giving Draco a surprise kiss.

Harry felt him smile against his lips, as Draco replied, “Getting over your fear of the Prophet and Ministry gossip so soon?”

Pulling back, Harry shrugged. Maybe it was because no one would remember it, or maybe it was because it seemed like such a small deal compared to the possibility of being stuck for another 70 or so years in that day, but Harry found himself minding the whispers and stares less and less.

As they walked around the statue, just barely missing coffee-bloke as he entered the pathway, Harry filled Draco in on the progress they’d made the previous loop. Informing him of the new system he’d tried also, as he explained that so far Blight had been running tests in 3 day loops and it wasn’t looking good. Draco nodded solemnly at the news, but didn’t look particularly surprised.

“So, right now, in the journal, he’s still testing it in 3 day loops?” Draco clarified.

“Yeah, and Hermione is convinced something has to happen for him to get to the point of changing it to the 70 year increment,” Harry said.

“But we don’t actually know that it’s 70 years, Harry. We only know that it’s not three days.”

Stomach dropped out, Harry stopped in his tracks in the hallway. “Oh, god, you’re right. We’ve just been running off this assumption that it was 70 years because that was his original plan.”

Draco placed his hand on Harry’s lower back, gently prodding him forward until they got to his office.

“So what does this mean?” Harry asked.

“It means we keep translating until there’s no journal left to translate.” Draco sat down and scribbled out a note to Hermione before sending it on its way.

Trying to keep the panic at bay, Harry drank his coffee slowly, letting the warmth soothe his frayed nerves.

A few minutes later, Hermione arrived, and Draco took back over the explanation. Harry went through the motions in a daze, mind spinning with all the “what ifs” all the possibilities that might even be worse than he expected.

By lunch, Harry was exhausted, and by the look of it, so were Draco and Hermione. Harry had filled Draco in on the new method—Hermione decoding while he just translated everything he knew. Hermione looked more than a little disbelieving that this would work, not really trusting that Draco and Harry were suddenly fluent in Ancient Veela, but went along with it. With the new method, they were able to translate nearly half a dozen pages just by lunch. Hermione already had another six waiting for them, and they got to work, skipping lunch, while she worked on the underlined words that they’d been unable to translate.

Doing the math, Harry realized that if they worked fast enough they might be able to finish the rest of the journal that day. With that thought propelling him forward, Harry doubled his efforts. He needed to know. Draco appeared to be in a similar state, barely looking up from his frantic scribbling. Only glancing at a reference book once in awhile, and otherwise simply underlining the problematic words or phrases.

“Fuck.”

Harry looked over to see Draco running his hand through his hair, looking concerned. “What?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“This- fuck. This isn’t good.”

“How many more pages do we have?” Hermione asked, looking up.

“I have another two,” Harry said.

“I have two as well.”

“Okay. Let’s finish those first and then we can worry about it. As long as we don’t know what those last pages say, we could be completely misinterpreting the information.” Hermione didn’t wait for a reply and went back to her reference book.

Harry bit his lip, but did as she said. He heard a soft sigh from Draco, and willed himself to focus on not worrying about what his parchment might have said.

An hour later, Hermione was finishing up the last of the tricky translations, with Harry and Draco looking over her shoulders. She stood up and stuck them on the wall in order.

Harry started at the beginning of that day’s translations. Blight was still trying to make this work in three day increments.

After another round of loops, Blight got sick—he hadn’t written much, but he’d come down with a magical bug and was unable to work for weeks. While he wasn’t necessarily old by Wizarding standards, it appeared he was still weakened by the illness and was concerned about his ability to continue his work. He decided he needed more time to work on the artifact. He, oh... Harry felt his stomach drop.

He had decided to use the stone to get more time, setting it back five years so he could keep working on the problem without continuing to age. He got his study ready with all the texts and reference books he thought he could possibly need and waited for the day he felt healthy enough to use it.

The next entry, dated the following day, was full of anger and frustration. Five years. Blight had spent five years in the loop and still hadn’t figured out how to make it take him back further.

For the next few pages of his journal, he went on about how close he was, he was sure of it. He just needed more time. He was continuing to feel weaker, his body failing. He made a decision. He had set the stone to 30 years. He was sure that was enough time. He’d be able to figure something out during the time; he just needed to wait until he was feeling well enough to try again. It wouldn’t make sense to go back on a bad day and just be sick for years. He needed to feel good, have the energy to work. 

That day never came.

He was too ill. The next few entries were him getting increasingly angry and frustrated by his failing body, by his lack of progress, by the stone itself. The last entry read:

_ This terrible stone has brought me nothing but trouble. It appears I’ve wasted years chasing a dream that could never come to be. I understand now that I will die like this, alone, without friends or family—having never shared my life with anyone. It seems that was my destiny after all. This morning, I tossed the stone in the trunk with all the other useless junk from my travels, the silly tourist items I picked up over the years because they caught my fancy, but really were just expensive trash. This may have been the most expensive of the lot, as I pinned so many hopes and dreams on it, and ultimately paid for it with my precious time. So, in the trunk of useless objects it went. I imagine this journal will follow shortly. _

Feeling nothing but numbness, Harry leaned up against the table. This was it. There was no solution. There was no spell or answer or ritual to break them out of this. They had their answer. Thirty years. They would be stuck there for thirty years.

“Fuck!” Draco yelled suddenly. “Damn it!” He knocked over a chair and threw one of the reference books at the wall, causing both Harry and Hermione to startle.

“Draco, there’s still so much we need to study. We still have information we didn’t before. There’s so much left to research,” Hermione said soothingly, but staying on the far side of the conference room as he kicked the wall.

“Can you give us a minute?” Harry asked her quietly.

She nodded and then left the conference room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Harry leaned on the table and let Draco have his meltdown. He understood. Frankly, Harry wasn’t entirely sure how he was still holding it together, other than perhaps that he felt like Draco needed him to keep it together. Somehow both of them falling apart at the same time seemed like a bad idea. So, Harry would hold it together tonight.

Eventually, Draco slumped in a chair, putting his head in his hands and Harry made his way over to him. Crouching down, Harry wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tight. He didn’t bother telling him it would be fine. It wouldn’t. But, he needed Draco to know he wasn’t alone.

Suddenly leaning back, Draco looked at Harry with bloodshot eyes. “Let’s go home.”

Harry nodded and followed him out of the conference room and through the ministry. Without saying anything, they somehow decided on Grimmauld Place.

Draco immediately plopped down on the sofa.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked as he sat next to him.

“No. I am definitely not okay.”

Harry bit his lip, unsure of what to do or say. A few weeks ago, he would have told Draco it was all going to be fine and they’d figure it out, but now he really didn’t believe that any more.

Draco leaned towards Harry, and Harry put his arm around him.

“I want to say it’s going to be okay,” Harry finally said, wishing he could make it all better.

“I know, but you can’t actually say that. We might actually be stuck. We’re probably actually stuck” Draco’s voice was tight, his eyes watery.

Harry pulled him tighter to him and kissed him on the temple. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“Harry- don’t. It’s just-” Draco’s voice cracked and his face started to crumple. Wiping his cheek quickly, he cleared his throat.

Harry turned, wrapping him in a tight hug. Draco fell apart against him, his breath hitching and body gently shaking, and a sense of helplessness overwhelmed Harry. There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to make this right. Nothing he could do to make up for what he’d done—this mess he caused. So, he did the only thing he could and held Draco, rubbing his back until his breathing steadied.

Finally, Draco pulled back, wiping his face on his robe sleeve, inhaling deeply. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. What can I do? How can I help?”

Draco sighed and shrugged, leaning back into the sofa. “I don’t think there’s anything either of us can do... hence the falling apart.”

Harry nodded.

“Can I stay here? Until the loop resets?” Draco asked quietly.

“Of course,” Harry answered. “Draco, you can stay here all day, every day, okay?”

Nodding and looking at Harry through slightly red and puffy eyes, Draco pulled Harry on top of him and stretched out on the sofa. It took a minute for them to maneuver themselves until neither were about to fall off the edge, and then Harry relaxed his head onto Draco’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around the man.

“I think I need a few loops off,” Draco whispered into Harry’s hair.

“Me too,” Harry replied. “Will you come over in the morning?”

“Yeah. Should I bring breakfast?” Draco asked.

“Oh, yeah probably. Do you want to shower here instead of your broken shower?” Harry asked.

Draco groaned. “Yes. I definitely want to do that. In fact, now that you’ve offered, I’m never showering at home again, so I hope you know what you’ve done. Even if this loop actually lasts for thirty years, I’m going to come over here every single morning and shower.”

With a gentle laugh, Harry leaned up, glad that he could joke about it, and hovered over his lips. “So, I get to see you every morning then?”

“Every single morning.”

Even though Harry knew their situation was bad—really bad—in that moment, squashed on the couch with Draco, limbs wrapped around each other, it felt almost manageable.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke to the sound of the alarm on his wand. 

With a groan, he heaved himself out of bed and ran downstairs to send a letter to Robards off with Isla. He wondered how long until Draco came over, wondered if he’d sleep late instead.

The whole situation just felt so surreal that morning—as if it was happening to someone else. Up until the previous night, he’d always been able to focus on the goal: translate the journal, get out of the loop. But now... he had nothing to focus on. Sure, there might be avenues they could still take. Hermione certainly had seemed convinced there was more research to be done, but it was so much more of an unknown now.

The journal really never was an absolute, Harry reminded himself. They’d even discussed that on several occasions, knowing it might not have the answers, but he realised now how much he hadn’t ever really believed that. He always thought it would have the answers and they’d figure it out. And for the first time, he knew, really understood, that they might not. This might be it. Thirty years of looping through the same day. A part of Harry wanted to be grateful that he wasn’t in this alone, that he had Draco. But, another part of him felt sick with fear of what years of endless loops might do to them, both individually and as a couple.

“Harry?” Draco’s voice travelled up the stairs.

“Coming!” Harry pulled himself out of his worries and headed downstairs, a smile breaking out on his face when he was presented with a ruffled Draco still in his pyjamas, carrying a casserole dish and small tote. 

“What?” Draco asked, defensively. “I wasn’t going to get dressed just to come over here to shower.”

Harry pulled him into a kiss. “You’re perfect. Is that breakfast?”

After a hearty breakfast casserole Draco had whipped up before coming over, Draco went to shower.

“Third floor, end of the hall,” Harry said before plopping down on the sofa as Draco headed up the stairs. Draco was still depressed about the whole situation, and it was wearing on Harry, a constant reminder of how dire their situation was. Fighting the lump in the back of his throat, he tried to not think about any of it. He needed a day off—they both needed a day off. It wasn’t as if they wouldn’t have plenty of time to worry about the next step.

Harry forced himself to not think about it and opened up the Quidditch magazine on the side table. With a groan, he realized he’d read this at least half a dozen times and threw it back down. He got up and looked through a stack of books in the corner. They were some books Hermione had gotten him some time ago saying she thought he’d like them. Given his long hours at work, or at least the long hours he often volunteered for, he’d never gotten a chance to pick them up. He pulled out one that looked like a murder mystery with an Auror on the cover, smiling to himself. Not really taking a break from work then.

Nearly half an hour later, Harry checked his watch, wondering how Draco wasn’t done yet. Harry decided to head up to the third floor and check that everything was alright.

When he got to the bathroom, he could see the steam rolling out under the door and heard the shower still running.

“Are you alright?” he asked through the closed door.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to finally come up here,” Draco’s muffled voice came through the door.

With a smile spreading over his face, Harry opened the door and slid inside the steamy bathroom. “You could’ve said something, I’ve been trying to keep myself occupied, thinking that maybe you were just the type to take hour-long showers.”

Draco laughed from behind the curtain as Harry quickly undressed and slipped behind the shower curtain. Draco’s skin was slightly pink from the hot water, and Harry wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

“I’m definitely the type to take hour long showers, but I also thought we should take full advantage of our day off,” Draco said, leaning in to capture Harry’s lips before slowly pushing Harry up against the tiled wall.

After a long and very relaxing shower, Harry felt boneless as they towelled off, and he slowly dragged Draco to the bedroom, having no intention of getting dressed. A day in bed, naked, sounded like exactly the thing they both needed.

They collapsed on the bed, still slightly damp, and Harry pulled his light quilt over them to chase off the chill. Draco turned towards him and pushed a clump of wet hair off Harry’s face.

“So, now what?” Draco asked with a sigh.

“Besides staying in bed naked all day? That’s pretty much the extent of my plans right now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do we need to talk about this right now? Can we just, I don’t know, pretend everything is okay for a few minutes?” Harry asked.

Draco rolled back over on his back and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t think I can right now.”

“Okay...” Harry said. “I guess we research more? Find out everything we can about the  _ Aetus _ spell and whether enhancements can be broken? Owl every cursebreaker you know?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Draco turned back to him, eyes serious.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do we do when we can’t fix this? I need a plan. A backup plan for when none of this works—something that will keep me from losing my mind. Harry, I’m not sure I can do this. Thirty years... it’s too much...” Draco trailed off, voice cracking.

Harry let out a long breath. “I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet.”

“I’m not saying we aren’t going to keep trying, just... I need a plan.”

“Do you mean how we’re going to live if we can’t fix it?” Harry felt his stomach clenching at the thought. So far, he was getting through this by entirely avoiding thinking about the specifics. Really, until the last loop, he’d been getting through it by not thinking too long of even the possibility that they were stuck. Harry supposed his childhood probably thoroughly taught him to deal with large problems that way... not a whole lot that could have been done at any moment about a homicidal lunatic that wanted him dead all those years, so he’d learned how to push stuff away, only deal with what was in front of him. But, he knew that wasn’t how Draco worked—he couldn’t just ignore the problem and push it off to another day. He needed plans and structure.

“Well,” Harry continued with a small smile. “I suppose we won’t need to go to work anymore.”

Draco huffed a laugh. “I suppose I can stop being insulted by Reeves every morning, and stop listening to Edna’s dumb boring stories about her sister and dog breeding. Although I’ve been just avoiding them by skipping the morning meeting altogether ever since I started getting you coffee in the morning.”

“I won’t have to get run into any more in the Atrium. Or eat any of Ron’s dry scones.” The wind suddenly got knocked out of Harry at the thought that he’d never really get to see and be with his friends and family in the same way. The few lunches with Ron and attempted dinners at the Weasleys over the last few months made it really clear that it would never be the same. It was like trying to spend time with a pensive memory as the other people were always stuck in their moment of history, telling the same stories, sharing news about their weekends, not being able to retain anything new about Harry’s life.

Some of this must have shown on his face, as Draco put his arm around him. “I didn’t mean to make this worse for you. I’m just panicking a bit here.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just—I miss my friends and family. I know I can still see them, but it’s not the same. What if it’s never the same again?” Harry’s eyes started burning and Draco nodded, pulling him tight.

“I don’t really have anyone, but I can imagine,” Draco said softly.

Harry pulled back so he could see Draco’s face. “You have me.”

Draco huffed. “Right, well. For now.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Harry asked.

“Harry, do you really think we’re going to make it through the strain of thirty years of repeating the same day over and over?”

“Well, I’d like to try! You sound like you’ve already given up on us.” Harry felt his face flush.

Draco bit his lip.

“Oh my god—you have, haven’t you?” Harry sat up and scrubbed his face.

“No, it’s not... I’m not breaking up with you, but can you honestly say that you think that we’re going to be able to handle this? Without losing our minds? How long until we start lashing out at each other? How long until we fall apart?” Draco sat up and faced Harry.

“I don’t know! Okay, you’re right—we’re probably going to fall apart. But I’m not going to give up so fast!”

“I’m not giving up! I’m being realistic!”

The room started to spin as Harry tried to make sense of what Draco was telling him. Harry was holding on by a thread, and for the past few weeks that thread had been Draco. Knowing that he was there with him, that Harry wasn’t alone was the only thing truly keeping him together at that point. The idea of doing it alone— 

“This is... I can’t- I need some air.” Harry inhaled sharply as he got up and threw some jeans and a t-shirt on with shaky hands and ran downstairs and to the front door. He shoved his trainers and and walked out the door, taking erratic breaths. 

It was bad enough—the thirty years looming over him—just the idea of it was enough for him to break out into a cold sweat. Harry couldn’t do it alone. 

As he walked down the block, he tried to take deep breaths and loosen the tightness in his chest. He tried to slow down his breathing, to keep from having another panic attack. He wasn’t sure he could calm himself down without Draco there. Without Draco. His eyes started to burn.

It was more than the thirty years. He finally had what he’d been looking for all those years, someone he wanted to come home to, someone he wanted to wake up next to every day, for the rest of his life. His throat tightened. He’d avoided thinking about it too deeply, so far, but when he really thought about it, he knew. This was love. This was the kind of love he’d always hoped for, but thought he’d been too broken to have. He finally had it, and it was going to be ripped away from him.

As he turned another corner on another block, there was a small park with a bench. 

He sat down and buried his head in his hands, too overwhelmed to keep walking. 

Maybe it wasn’t the same for Draco, maybe it was just convenient and something to do while they were stuck in this time loop. He felt vaguely nauseous at the thought. But then, he thought of their dinners, of their walks around the city in the evenings, talking about their lives, their jobs, their childhoods. He thought about how upset Draco was at the idea that Harry would have been embarrassed by him. 

Setting his jaw, Harry stood back up and headed back to his house. He knew Draco cared, and, as he set a fast pace back to Grimmauld Place, he reminded himself that he was too stubborn to let this get destroyed over some stupid time loop.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this has been a week. So sorry for the delay! With the quarantine, I've been working 14 hour days redesigning my classes to go online, recording videos, simplifying assignments and schedules. Whew! All I want to do is curl up in bed and get lost in some escapism fanfiction right now! 
> 
> Only one chapter left after this - I'll try to post in about a week, but I have some cleaning up and rewriting to do to the end, so it's really just going to depend on how busy I am with work and how well I'm managing my panic attacks and mental health over the next week or so. I'm not going to lie, I'm struggling with the enormity of this all (not just the virus, but he global impacts of the whole thing economically, politically, etc.). But enough about that - let's escape into other worlds and fanfiction! Take care everyone and stay safe <3
> 
> Edit (3/28): Things have amazingly gotten MORE busy at work. I'm not sure I'm going to have any time to work on this chapter until next month or maybe even later. Since it's the ending, I really don't want to just throw my draft out there (at my beta's suggestion, it needs more work). Sorry to leave you guys hanging like this <3

Harry hurried up the stairs, hoping Draco hadn’t left. When he opened the bedroom door, Draco was sitting on the bed, putting his shoes on.

“What is this to you?” Harry asked with no prelude.

Draco looked up, startled.

“Us, you and me—what is this to you?” Harry asked again.

“Harry,” Draco sighed, looking resigned and a little sad. “What does it matter? We’ve been stuck in a loop for months, just the two of us, something was bound to happen.”

“Stop- that’s not what I asked.” Harry sat down next to him on the bed.

Draco bit his lip, but didn’t respond.

After a few minutes, he threaded his fingers through Draco’s. “Would it help if I went first?” The vulnerability Harry saw in his eyes answered his question even though Draco still didn’t respond.

“The idea that I might lose you,” Harry cleared his throat to keep his voice from cracking. “The thought of losing you is scarier to me than the thought of 30 years of living the same day over and over. And, I won’t give you up so easily.”

Draco breathed in sharply. “I wasn’t giving up, I was just...”

“Trying to protect yourself,” Harry said.

Draco nodded.

“I know we have no idea how this is going to go, and I know this is going to be hard. But, please don’t give up on me yet,” Harry said, as he squeezed his hand.

Draco looked at him closely. “I don’t want to, but-“

“Harry!” Ron’s voice came through the hall. “Hey, Harry— I heard from Robards that you were-” Ron appeared in the open doorway and froze.

“Ron-” Harry said, with a start, feeling Draco freeze beside him.

Ron looked between them, eyes stopping on their hands, still linked.

Harry fought back a laugh, knowing how completely crazy this must look to his friend. “Erm, what are you doing here?”

“I brought soup,” Ron said, eyebrows furrowed.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Robards said you owled in sick. You never take a day off, and I hadn’t heard from you, so I took an early lunch. And, I brought you soup.” Ron said, still staring at their hands.

Harry internally groaned as he realised he had forgotten to owl Ron. Well, he’d been right to be concerned that his friend would hunt him down in the previous loops.

“Erm- sorry, I should have owled. I’m, erm-” Harry looked to Draco for help. He had no idea how to explain any of it in the moment. Draco’s mouth curled up slightly, and he raised an eyebrow that let Harry know he was on his own for this.

“I’m, er- skiving off. I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Harry finally said.

“You’re skiving off? With Malfoy?” Ron asked incredulously, looking around the room as the answer would be somewhere.

“Yes?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well,” Harry looked over at Draco again, who looked highly amused by the whole conversation. “We’re together... and we wanted a day off.” Technically, both counts were true.

“You’re together,” Ron repeated. “Together like dating.”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t understand,” Ron said again.

“We were trying to keep it under wraps, Weasley,” Draco offered. “You know how everyone gossips.”

“Right,” Harry said. “We, er, didn’t want to say anything until, you know... er...”

Draco gave Harry an unimpressed look as he continued to stammer and then turned back to Ron. “We know how crazy this was going to seem to everyone, so we wanted to make sure it would work out first.”

“You wanted to make sure it was going to work out?”

Harry bit back a smile. “Yeah.”

“And it’s going to work out?” Ron asked faintly.

“Yes,” Draco replied and squeezed Harry’s hand. “We think so.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he squeezed back. 

“Right. Okay. Good. I’m going to go. We, er, we can talk later, Harry?” Ron asked. His face had fully drained of all color by that point, his freckles standing out against his pale skin.

“Sure. Erm- sorry you had to find out like this,” Harry replied.

“Okay. I’m going to go. I said that already. Okay, er, bye.” Ron turned on his heel and, from the sound of it, took the stairs at nearly a run.

Harry fell back on the bed, burying his face in his hands.

“Well, he won’t remember any of this tomorrow, at least,” Draco said, sounding amused. Feeling the bed shift beside him, Harry looked over to see Draco laying back next to him.

“So, we’re okay?”

Draco nodded, even though he still looked worried. Harry gave him a small smile.

“Think Weasley is going to recover?”

“God, he was so traumatized.” Harry laughed.

“Granger took it much better.”

“Well, she also had a little background information like knowing about the time loop,” Harry said.

Draco sighed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it back up.”

“I need to just not think about it right now. What do you say to finding something new to do today? It’s still early, surely there has to be something to do in this city,” Draco said.

“I suppose there’s the touristy stuff. Why don’t we just head downtown and see what we find?” Harry offered, standing up.

“Sure. We can complete my Muggle education,” Draco said with a small smile. “Harry- What I said earlier. I don’t want to give up on us. I just- I want you to know that, but I’m kind of freaking out here.”

“I know. I am too, I’m just- I’m trying to keep it together and just focus on each day right now.”

“I know. Let’s go find something to do and completely ignore reality for a while,” Draco said wryly.

“Sounds like a plan.”

A few hours later, they found themselves in the National Portrait Gallery.

“But they don’t do anything,” Draco whispered, as they stood in front of a portrait of a woman holding a book and donning a helmet-like hat with a giant white feather on the top.

“Well, no, they’re just paintings,” Harry whispered back, unsure why they were whispering in an empty room.

“But why do people visit them if they can’t talk to them?”

“Just to see the art, I guess.” Harry frowned, not finding the museum particularly interesting himself.

“Huh.” Draco walked to the next painting and stood in front of it, brows furrowed.

So far, their day had been a bit lacklustre. They’d found a street with a whole bunch of upscale shops, and Harry thought Draco would have found all the Muggle shops and clothing interesting. Instead, it nearly led to Draco having another meltdown at the realization he might have to go thirty years with the exact same wardrobe. Harry eventually pulled him down another street, and they wandered through the city until they found themselves in front of the museum.

As the day went on, Harry found himself fighting back a growing panic. The idea of having to fill up thirty years of days was overwhelming him at every step. They would soon bore of the things they could do on a Monday in London, or even around the rest of the country. While they could, thankfully, floo or apparate just about anywhere in the country, there was only so much they would be able to do on one specific Monday in early summer. 

As he tried to think about the different things he’d be able to do to fill his time, he realised how bad it really would be. He wouldn’t be able to pick up any sort of hobby that couldn’t be finished in a day. His existing friendships wouldn’t be the same. He’d never make new friends, and if Draco and he didn’t work out, he’d certainly never be able to have another relationship. 

He wouldn’t even have work. That thought alone made him break out in a cold sweat. Work was his safety net—the one thing he could throw himself into to avoid everything wrong in his life. In one fell swoop, that had been taken away as well.

His breath was coming in shorter breaths as he continued to stare blankly at the portrait of the woman. He felt a hand on his back, rubbing slowly.

“Just breathe,” Draco said to him quietly.

Harry sucked in a breath and felt his eyes burning. He needed to sit. He turned and walked on shaky legs to a bench a few steps away in the middle of the room. Sitting down, he bent over, bracing his elbows on his knees and trying to get his breathing under control. Draco had followed him, sitting next to him, rubbing his back and reminding him to breathe slowly.

His chest was too tight. He couldn’t breathe. His fingers started tingling and he started to suck in even faster and deeper breaths, unable to feel anything other than sheer terror. He couldn’t breathe and he was going to die right there in the middle of the stupid gallery.

“Harry, love, you need to slow down your breathing.” Draco’s voice sounded really far away, echoing in the empty gallery. Harry’s breath kept coming too quickly, his vision swimming, darkening at the edges. “Breathe out slowly, and count with me, 3, 2, 1... now hold it... good, you’re doing good.”

Harry tried to focus only on Draco’s voice and slowing his breathing down. The room eventually came back into focus and Harry could feel the layer of sweat all over his body, starting to feel chilled as he calmed down. Draco continued rubbing his back and speaking to him soothingly.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” Harry said, setting his glasses on the bench next to him and scrubbing his hands over his face.

“Well, from the looks of it, you had a panic attack,” Draco replied. “You’re okay, just let yourself rest for a minute.”

Harry put his glasses back on and took a slow deep breath, feeling like his chest was finally loosening.

“What do you say about just going home? Unless you are particularly interested in these boring portraits?” Draco asked, still rubbing his back.

“Yeah okay. Sorry about this,” Harry said, his face flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t apologize. You are not the only one freaking out right now. Every thought I’m having is somehow coming back around to the situation. Come on, let’s go home.” Draco stood and held his hand out for Harry, pulling him up and then threading his fingers through Harry’s, holding tight.

When they got back to Grimmauld Place, Harry collapsed on the sofa, feeling like he’d just run a marathon.

“Tea?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded and Draco headed downstairs. Kicking off his shoes, Harry laid down, still feeling a slight edge of panic.

A few minutes later, Draco came into view levitating two mugs of tea. He lowered them on the coffee table and sat on the floor right in front of Harry, not asking him to move.

“We’ll get through this, okay?” Draco leaned over and kissed him softly. “We just need to take turns freaking out and we’ll be fine.” He smiled.

Harry huffed a laugh. “I’ll make us a schedule.”

Draco let out a soft laugh and then sighed. “I want to get back to work tomorrow. I know I said I wanted some time off, but I think I need to completely exhaust all possibilities first. I just can’t relax at all.”

“Okay, and yeah, I feel the same.” Harry sat up slowly, grabbing one of the mugs of tea. “Where do you want to start?”

“I think we need to contact anyone we can for ideas. We can explain what we know about the stone and the  _ Aetus Exemplare _ and see if anyone else has any ideas. For all we know, someone somewhere else in the world is perfectly adept at removing enhancement spells off cursed objects.”

“Okay, do you have some people in mind?”

“Yes, but...” Draco bit his lip.

“What?”

“I’m not sure how likely they are to help me, particularly quickly. Last time I went to a conference, it seemed that news of the war had travelled far. No one was outright rude, but people were definitely standoffish.” Draco’s face flushed slightly, and Harry could see the embarrassment written all over it.

Harry bit back a sigh and wished he could fix all of it but also knew they had to deal with the matter at hand first. “What if the letters came from me? Or from Hermione?”

Draco nodded. “That will probably be best.”

“Why don’t we make a list of people we can contact and we’ll get started tomorrow back at the Ministry.”

“Yeah, okay.” Draco summoned a quill and parchment placing them on the coffee table and started writing down names, explaining to Harry who each of them were and how they might be able to help.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry leaned back in his chair as they waited for Hermione. The previous evening, Draco had made an extensive list of anyone he could think of that might be able to help and made Harry memorize it so that they didn’t forget anyone. Even with the messages coming from Harry or Hermione, who was generally well-known and respected having helped out with numerous governments and magical creature issues over the years, the problem was still time. Most of the letters had to be sent out long distances, and the chances of someone getting a letter, replying and the letter getting back to them in one loop wasn’t great. They’d need a coordinated plan for this to have any chance at working.

A few minutes later, Hermione arrived and they filled her in on the situation.

“The important thing will be to stress the importance of getting back to us immediately,” Draco explained.

“And that’s assuming they read the letter right away,” Hermione said.

“Right,” Draco sighed.

“What if we mark important on the outside of the scroll?” Harry asked.

“That might work, but if someone is in the field or just has their mail delivered to their desk, it might not matter,” Hermione replied. “There’s also the problem of sharing an Auror case with people from governments and countries all over the world. If this gets back to our Ministry, we could have a problem.”

“I mean, we’ll have a problem for a few hours, but then the loop will reset,” Harry reminded her.

“Oh, right. I suppose there’s no real consequences for the two of you,” she said thoughtfully and Harry bit back a smile. She realized this on nearly every loop, and he wondered what she would do if she was in their situation. “I wonder if the same is true for me. I mean will my timeline continue on? Or is this ceasing to exist as a timeline because you two can’t break out of it?”

Harry looked at Draco, who frowned. “We don’t really know.”

“Well no, you wouldn’t, would you? No matter what, your timeline can’t continue,” she said.

“Is it a problem for you? To be involved with this, I mean?” Harry asked, he’d never realized that she might still have consequences even if he didn’t.

She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “I don’t know. I think we should talk to Robards, at least on this first loop we are doing this. If we can get approval to send these letters, then we won’t have anything to worry about. If we can’t, let me know on the next loop and we’ll try something different. Now, you said I was normally the one explaining this to Robards every morning?”

“Yes, he tends to be more inclined to go along with whatever you say. Harry and I just tend to get ourselves stuck back in St. Mungo’s.” Draco smiled wryly.

“Okay, well, let’s get started then.” Hermione smiled.

“You’ve been stuck in a time loop for months, and you need to send information about an open Auror investigation to people all over the globe to get yourself out of it?” Robards tapped his finger on his desk as he peered over at the three of them.

“It’s really the only way forward at this point,” Hermione said.

“And you’ve already been to St. Mungo’s and I’m supposed to just take your word on this?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said.

Robards let out a huff. “How did this even happen?”

“It was an accident—the artifact needed to be moved to get a clear view of the stone and I accidentally brushed against it,” Draco replied.

Harry tried to school his features and not show any surprise at Draco’s response. It had been some months since Draco had last announced to Robards that Harry had set off the device while arguing with him about the case, but he’d never outright lied, and he’d certainly never taken the blame.

Exhaling loudly, Robards looked back and forth between them. “I want a list of everyone you are planning on contacting. This is a powerful artifact and we aren’t going to share information about its existence with just anyone.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, standing up. “Thank you. We’ll get you that list shortly, but we are going to need to move fast on this if we only have one day to get a reply.”

“Right.” As always, Robards looked unimpressed by the whole situation. “I have a meeting at eleven, but I will be available until then.”

“Ok, thanks—I’ll be back shortly with the list.” Hermione led them out of the office and down the hall.

As they walked towards Draco’s office, Harry kept sneaking glances at him.

“What?” Draco finally asked.

“You didn’t have to take the blame.”

“Don’t get too worked up about it. He won’t even remember tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll let you take the blame during the final loop.”

Harry laughed. “You bastard. Here I was thinking what a nice thing you did.”

“I didn’t suddenly become a self-sacrificing Gryffindor overnight. I just thought it might help things along if he wasn’t ticked off at you.” Draco raised an eyebrow as they followed Hermione around the corner to Draco’s hallway.

“I guess that makes sense. So, no large romantic gestures should be expected then?” Harry asked with a laugh.

Draco quirked a smile. “Well, not of the self sacrificing variety, but I’m sure-”

Hermione whipped her head around and Draco coughed, his face flushing slightly.

As they reached the door to Draco’s office, Hermione turned towards them with a raised eyebrow and a smile quirking at her lips. “Romantic gestures?”

“Oh, erm- well...” Harry shrugged, feeling his face heating up. “We’re, you know... and-”

Draco snorted a laugh as he tapped a spot just above the door knob with his wand to unlock his office. “Eloquent as ever,” he said, holding the door open for Hermione and Harry.

Hermione rubbed Harry’s arm as she walked by and gave him a smile, as he tried to get some of the embarrassment under control. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed about Draco, he knew that wasn’t it. But he was acutely aware that the depth of his feelings for the other man would be written all over his face if Hermione looked closely enough. Somehow sharing that with the world, what he really felt, was just too intimate, too personal. He coughed and pulled up a chair, hoping they could just move past it and feeling incredibly jealous at Draco’s ability to smooth out his expressions.

“I think we should make the full list today,” Hermione said, pulling a chair up to Draco’s desk. “If we know who he is and is not likely to approve, we’ll have that information for future loops.”

“Won’t he take longer to get back to us then?” Draco asked. “I imagine he’d be mulling over that for some time.”

“That’s not a bad point. What if we see if he can give us a few names to start with immediately and then ask him to look over the rest of the list throughout the day? As long as we we get it back before the loop resets, you’ll still have that information for future loops.”

“Okay, we can try it.” Draco sat down, grabbing a roll of parchment and self-inking quill. “First, I’d like to contact other curse breakers—see if any of them have any suggestions for tackling an enhancement spell without accidentally causing more problems.”

Harry sat off to the side, flipping through the  _ International Journal of Curse Breaking _ while Draco and Hermione discussed everyone they thought might be able to help. Given that Harry knew a total of two curse breakers, one of whom was in that office, he was of no use. He was fighting back that edge of irritation from being stressed out about something that he couldn’t do anything about. 

This is where being an auror suited him; he couldn’t stand sitting idly by with nothing to do. Even in frustrating cases, there was some detail that could be tracked down, someone to talk to, a location to stake out. But, he knew this was important too, so he actively worked at keeping himself from shaking his leg and expressing his growing frustration. He realized this whole process was likely to be frustrating. After they sent off the letters, he wasn’t sure if there would be anything to do but wait.

“Okay, I think this is enough for now.” Draco rolled up the parchment and handed it over to Hermione.

“Okay, I’ll be back.”

After Hermione left, Draco turned to Harry, who was still looking at the journal. “You doing okay?” he asked with a hint of a smile. “Those journals aren’t exactly the most interesting reading I have in the office.”

Harry huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I’m just trying to keep myself busy.”

With a nod, Draco stood up and stretched. “After we send the letters, I think we should see if there are any books we can dig up on enhancement spells. Most of the day will be spent waiting on responses, so we should probably do whatever research we can at any libraries we can get access to while we wait.”

“I never thought I’d see the day I was grateful for library research, but here we are.” Harry laughed. “Well at least Hermione will be in her element. She’ll be positively thrilled if we need to travel to different libraries for this.”

As if on cue, Hermione walked back through the door. “I’ve got three names to start with.” She handed the parchment over to Draco, who nodded.

“Okay, this is a good start. Come on, Potter, make your famous name useful.” Draco smiled and handed Harry a piece of parchment and quill and began to dictate a message.

The sound of ruffling feathers overhead pulled Harry’s attention out of the old dusty tome he’d been scouring for the last hour looking for any information at all on enhancement spells. Unable to speak to Bill directly, they’d started with his personal library of curse breaking books. Fleur graciously allowed them to camp out in the kitchen at Shell Cottage with half of his library strewn about.

A small barn owl landed in front of Harry, and he untied the letter and gave the owl a small piece of a biscuit he had leftover from tea earlier.

“Who’s it from?” Draco asked.

Unrolling the parchment, Harry glanced at the signature. “The German curse breaker.”

“Oh, good.” Draco came around the table and looked over his shoulder. A moment later Hermione pulled herself out of her book and joined them.

“Could this work?” Harry asked.

Draco stepped back and started pacing around the kitchen. “I’m thinking.”

“You said that this artifact doesn’t register as a cursed object, right? When you did your initial tests?” Hermione asked.

“Right. But, it’s still possible that if we used that spell to neutralize the enhancement it would detach itself. It would allow us to keep the stone magic intact, not messing with it, while ending the effect of the  _ Aetus _ on the stone. It might work.” Draco stopped pacing and looked at them.

“Can we go try?” Harry asked, looking at his watch.

“Yes. Absolutely—it doesn’t need any prep, we should be able to just cast it.”

Just as they were putting away the last of Bill’s books, another owl came flying in and landed in front of Hermione.

She made removed the letter and sent the owl on its way, unrolling the parchment. “It’s from Belgium. She doesn’t have an answer since there isn’t time to do further research. She said since it’s not showing up as a curse, it’s unlikely that  _ conteram maledicta _ will work, which she’s used to break curses with enhancements before.” Hermione summarized and continued to scan the page. “Oh, but she says... oh, well. I don’t know that I agree with her, but she says if nothing else works, you can try  _ omne totum conteram magicae _ .” Hermione looked up at Draco, eyebrows raised.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, that’s-” Draco ran a hand through his hair.

“What? What is that?” Harry asked, feeling completely out of his depth with both of their knowledge on the subject.

Hermione rolled the parchment back up. “It’s a spell that literally breaks magic. It can be used on any type of object that’s infused with magic, but it’s extremely dangerous. Even with low level magical objects, it can create unpredictable results, and with something of this magnitude... I mean, really.”

“Okay, let’s go try to neutralize the  _ Aetus _ from the stone’s magic,” Draco said, as he stacked the last book on the table. “We can try more people in the morning if this doesn’t work.”

“And we still need to get back to the Ministry and see if Robards has a more complete list for us of who we can and cannot contact about this,” Hermione reminded them.

Harry nodded, knowing full well that both Draco and he would contact every person on that list regardless of what Robards said if they needed to.

“Would you like a side along to the shop, Granger?” Draco stuck out an arm.

“Yes, thank you.”

Harry followed right after, apparating a few feet from the entrance to the shop. It was early afternoon, and there were still MLE personnel wandering around. Draco pulled the door open, and Harry stepped through.

“Harry!” Ron came walking over. “Hermione? What’s going on? Robards said he had you on something else today, I tried to get him to tell me more, but he told me to get out of his office.”

“It’s a really long story,” Harry sighed.

“We’re caught in a time loop, that object is the problem, Hermione has been helping us try to break the spell,” Draco said as he walked past them towards the artifact.

Ron looked at Harry, eyebrows raised.

“Erm- I guess it wasn’t that long,” Harry said.

“Time loop?”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you all about it, but let us try to break the spell first.” Harry motioned over to the artifact that Draco was now crouched over.

“Right, okay.” Ron stepped back.

Harry joined Draco and crouched down next to him.

“Ready?” Draco asked.

“Absolutely.” Harry said.

Holding his wand over the artifact, Draco started the incantation, speaking quietly but clearly as he moved his wand in a circular motion as the directions had instructed. A soft blue glow surrounded the stone and swirled around it slowly.

“It should be absorbed by the object,” Hermione said from right next to Harry, causing him to jump slightly. Harry turned to see her just behind him, peering over his shoulder.

The blue light from the spell was not being absorbed, it just continued to swirl around the object. Draco kept the incantation going, speaking slightly louder.

As several minutes went by, and Harry knew it wasn’t going to work. There was no way the curse breaker from Germany wouldn’t have mentioned if it was supposed to take this long. He’d been extremely detailed in all of his instructions and descriptions of the spell.

“It’s not working,” Hermione said, mirroring Harry’s thoughts.

Draco kept casting, sweat beading up on his brow from the effort of keeping the spell going.

“Draco,” Harry said softly.

Draco repeated the incantation again.

“Draco, it’s not working. We’ll try something else tomorrow.”

Draco kept casting, and Harry put his hand on his shoulder. He finally released the spell.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Draco picked up the artifact and threw it across the room and sat back on his heels.

Hermione jumped back.

“Don’t worry, he’s already done that—it won’t do anything,” Harry whispered to her. “Give me a minute, okay?”

She nodded and walked over to Ron, who was still by the doorway.

“We can try something different tomorrow, okay? We’ve only contacted three people.”

Draco exhaled. “I know. It’s just- I finally had hope that...”

“I know.” Harry scooted toward him and put his hand back on his shoulder.

Draco leaned into the contact and closed his eyes. “Fuck. Okay. Let’s go get the list from Robards so we can try again tomorrow.” Standing up, he brushed off his robes and put out a hand to help Harry up. His brow was still furrowed, and Harry could see the tension in his jaw, the strain of trying to keep it together. Watching the increasing strain on someone he cared about was nearly as exhausting as the loop itself. The helplessness he felt—unable to fix this for either of them—was taking its own toll. Draco gave him a small smile, and Harry tried to return it, taking a deep breath.

They still had plenty to do. There were still things to try. He reminded himself of this over and over again like a mantra, trying to keep the panic at bay.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience this last month! It's been an absolute crazy one, but here it is - the last chapter! I hope you enjoy and thanks for sticking with me through this. And thanks once again to my amazing betas for helping me through this and helping me grow as a writer.

Harry woke up to the sound of his alarm on his wand. He turned it off and rolled back over. Draco would be over soon for his shower, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to pull himself out of bed.

In the past twenty or so loops, maybe longer as Harry really lost track of time quickly those days, they’d tried everyone on the list. Every single person. Some never responded, either not receiving their note or choosing to not reply, they had no way of knowing. Some gave them things to try, new spells, new ideas. Some had no ideas at all—particularly those they’d written to in the last few days after they had listed everything that hadn’t worked. They even went so far as taking international floos to the further parts of the world, in the hopes of getting information back within the day. Harry tried to find Bill in South America, but after several attempts, gave up. He was just too far away from civilization for Harry to convince people to help him get to him in a day, even with Wizarding means of transport.

They’d tried curse breakers, charms experts, artifacts experts, sending anywhere from three to ten letters out each day.

The previous evening they got one last letter with two more suggestions, and they’d need to try those still, but then, that was it. They were out of ideas. Even Hermione was out of ideas, which Harry felt was more ominous than the rest of it combined.

The door creaked open and Harry looked over to see a rumpled Draco in his pyjamas.

“Hey,” Harry said, voice still rough with sleep.

“Hey,” Draco replied, climbing in bed next to Harry and curling up next to him. He didn’t look good. Harry could see the strain in every muscle in his face.

Scooting a little closer, Harry wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. Draco wrapped around him and held on tight.

“I don’t want to go today. I don’t want to find out we’re out of options,” Draco said, voice muffled against Harry’s chest.

“I know, love.” Harry rubbed his back, wishing he could fix it, wishing there was someone he could fight, some crime he could solve to make it all go away. “But we need to try.”

“I know.” Draco pulled back with a sigh. “Let’s just go straight to the shop. There’s no need to get anyone else involved today.”

“Okay. Did you want to shower first?”

“No, I’m just going to throw on some clothes.” Draco pulled himself out of bed and rifled through the tote bag he’d dropped at the side of Harry’s bed, pulling out a set of robes. “Fuck it.” He put the robes on right over his pyjamas.

“I don’t want to hear one more word about the jeans that I wear under my Auror robes after today,” Harry said with a smile.

Draco laughed quietly. “Fair.”

Harry walked over to the chair in the corner of his room that held his clean, but not put away laundry and pulled out a pair of jeans and tshirt, throwing them over his boxer-briefs. He really couldn’t bring himself to care any more than Draco at the moment. He pulled a clean set of Auror robes out of his closet and tossed that on as well, so that they could get to the crime scene with little fuss.

A few minutes later, they stood above the object. This was it. Harry kneeled down, patiently waiting for Draco who looked like he was still fighting himself, not wanting to cast the last two spells that would determine if they were actually stuck.

Finally with a loud exhale, he dropped next to Harry.

“Ready?” Draco asked.

Harry nodded and Draco started casting the first spell. It was an old spell from a charms expert in Jakarta. He said it could sometimes detangle magic—if Draco could pull the  _ Aetus _ away from the stone with that spell, Harry could then end the spell. 

The magic wrapped around the stone. If it worked, it would make any spells on it visible and then pull them away. The stone glowed with what appeared to be several threads of magic, several smaller ones and a large multicoloured thread that pulsed and swirled much like the Northern Lights. Draco kept the incantation going and pulled, but they weren’t separating. Draco pulled harder, but nothing. They only pulsed together, seemingly locked as one.

After several minutes, he finally dropped the spell and exhaled.

“Last one?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded and started to cast. The Indonesian charms expert didn’t even think this one would work, but said he’d send it just in case. Draco wove the spell around the stone, but nothing happened. He tried the incantation several more times, but still nothing.

Harry sat back on his heels.

“Well, that was it,” Draco said. There was no swearing, no throwing things; he looked like the fight had drained out of him.

The stone sat there looking so simple, so innocuous. Harry still had a hard time believing something so small was going to destroy their lives. Or at least, maybe—there was still one spell...

“I know you both said this was a terrible idea, but there’s one spell we didn’t try.” Harry had been considering bringing it back up for a week, but thought Draco might not listen until all other avenues had been exhausted first.

“What?” Draco asked.

“The spell the Belgian curse breaker sent us.”

“Harry, no. That-” Draco ran a hand over his face. “It’s far too dangerous.”

Harry turned to face him. “Or it could work.”

Draco let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “Or it could  _ kill _ us. Harry, that spell is dangerous and unpredictable with even low level artifacts, something like this... I can’t even imagine the damage it could do.”

“But, what-”

“No. I’m not going to be responsible for destroying a city block. I have enough on my conscience,” Draco said firmly as he stood up. “Come on. I want to go back to bed.” Draco helped Harry up and they made their way to the street.

Harry saw Ron in the distance, coming through the Leaky Cauldron entrance. He’d have to send an owl in if he didn’t want Ron hunting him down later. His stomach clenched at the idea he’d have to get up and send an owl every single day. Even the smallest actions were feeling torturous in their repetition, and Harry was starting to understand what Draco had meant all those loops ago. It was going to tear them apart—it would tear them away from each other and then destroy them each individually.

Draco offered his arm and Harry took it, roughly pulled into apparition. They landed on the stoop of Grimmauld Place and Harry pushed through the door. Draco walked right past him and straight upstairs without a word. With a sigh, Harry followed him up the stairs, briefly stopping in the study to send a couple letters with Isla.

When he got to the bedroom, Draco was already buried under the duvet. Harry undressed back down to his pants and climbed in, curling around Draco’s back. Letting the other man’s breathing soothe him, Harry eventually fell back asleep.

✦ ✦ ✦ 

“Do you want to get dinner tonight?” Draco’s muffled voice asked.

Harry pulled the duvet tighter around him. “I don’t care.”

He heard a huff and then the bed shifted beside him, the door shutting a moment later. Harry couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed for more than a few minutes any more. Most days Draco came over still in his pyjamas and they watched movies or stayed in bed. Sometimes he brought breakfast, sometimes he just came over, sometimes he didn’t come over at all.

For the first few weeks, they tried to get out of the house, go do things. One loop, they even tried to take a vacation, using Harry’s fame to secure a last-minute international portkey to a small town on the Mediterranean. It seemed to help, they spent the day wandering around the seaside village, eating different food, going to the beach. But then evening came and the loop reset and Harry woke up alone, in his bed. Somehow after that, it was worse than ever—the reality of never being able to sustain anything. Never being able to stay up too late talking, never waking up next to each other. Harry couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed the next day, not even sending a note to Ron. Draco didn’t come over that loop, and Harry had to send Ron off at lunch. It was easier than it should have been as Ron agreed that he looked terrible and hoped he’d feel better soon.

Harry wasn’t sure how long ago that was. Time had lost all meaning.

“Harry,” Draco said softly, and Harry felt the bed dip again as the duvet was pulled down away from his face. “I think we should get out of the house. Let’s go out to dinner—we can apparate to another town or something, try something new.”

“I’m not hungry, just let me sleep.” Harry pulled the duvet back up.

“Harry, love. Please...”

Harry closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up to the sound of his alarm on his wand and forced himself downstairs to his study. As much effort as it took to get out of bed those days, it was still easier to send off a couple letters than dealing with Ron at lunch. 

As soon as the letters were off, he went back to bed, sleeping the day away.

“Harry.” Draco sat down next to him and pulled down the covers.

“Go away.”

“No—I want to talk to you.”

Harry turned over and pulled the covers back up. He just wanted to sleep.

“I think we should try the spell.”

It took Harry a minute to figure out what Draco was talking about. He turned around slowly, squinting to see the man. “I thought you said it was going to kill us.”

“I said it might.” Draco handed him his glasses.

Harry sat up, putting his glasses on. “But you think we should try it now?”

“I think we need to try. We can’t keep going like this—we can’t.”

Leaning back against the headboard, Harry pulled the duvet back up to his chest. Draco wasn’t wrong. Harry knew this wasn’t healthy—he could barely drag himself out of bed for the simplest things any more. How long until he completely lost his mind? He wasn’t sure if there would be anything left of him by the time the loop finally ended at this rate.

“Okay.”

They stood over the artifact. The shop was mostly empty as it was already early evening. They got a sideways look from the MLE patrolman who was stationed outside of the shop, but he didn’t say anything. He could feel Draco’s nervous energy the whole way to the shop. Now that they were standing over the artifact, Draco was vibrating with agitation, and Harry wondered if he was going to be able to go through with it.

“Okay. I said you could be here, but I changed my mind. I think you shouldn’t be here,” Draco said, running a hand through his hair.

“What?”

“I need you to go—get far away from here, actually.”

“What-no! Why?” Harry asked.

“It might- I have no idea what is going to happen, and I’d feel better if you weren’t here.”

Harry looked at Draco, taking in his frazzled expression, his hands slightly shaking. Grabbing his hand, Harry faced him. “Draco, no. We’re in this together.”

“No, I can’t—I can’t have you here. I can’t cast this with you here, okay?” He looked at Harry pleadingly.

“What-” Harry’s voice cracked. “What happened to no self-sacrificing romantic gestures? You absolute git- I’m not leaving you.”

Draco huffed a laugh. “I lied, now go.”

“Absolutely not.” Harry dropped to his knees, pulling Draco with him. “Cast.”

Draco ran his hand through his hair again. “Harry-”

“No, and that’s final.” Harry raised an eyebrow at him and threaded his fingers through Draco’s. 

Draco looked up at the ceiling and exhaled loudly. “Fuck. You are so fucking stubborn.” 

“I’m aware. Now cast.”

Draco swished his wand in a large arc, casting a strong protective dome around the two of them and the artifact. Then, taking a deep breath, he glanced one last time at Harry before raising his wand with a shaky hand and starting to cast. The magic flowed out of his wand, wrapping the stone in a deep blue light.

“ _ Omne totum conteram magicae, totus confractus magicae, omne totum conteram magicae _ .” Draco’s wand arm started to shake, and he appeared to be using all his energy and concentration to maintain the spell.

Harry could feel the hairs on his arms stand on end from the magic in the air. The power of the stone filled the air, crackling and flickering around them. Taking a deep breath, he tightened his grip on Draco’s hand.

Draco kept casting, muttering the stream of incantations under his breath. 

As the air became even more charged, a loud crack reverberated through the room and Draco startled back, dropping his wand. The sharp smell of electricity hung in the air.

Harry looked down. 

The wand had split like a tree struck by lightning. It was completely destroyed, burn marks edging all the cracked lines. 

The stone was still intact. It looked exactly the same.

Harry felt his chest constrict and his eyes started burning. That was it then. They were bound to years of slowly being driven to madness; everything—their lives, their relationship, their sanity would be destroyed by the loop. There was nothing more to be done.

He felt a tear fall down his cheek and looked to see Draco, his head buried in his hands. Harry scooted over and wrapped his arms around him.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered and returned the hug.

“No, it's not your fault-” Harry swallowed hard. “I’m sorry- I’m sorry I was such a prick to you for all those years. I’m sorry I was such an arse that I got us stuck in this. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you lately.”

“No, Harry. It’s- just stop. It’s okay.” Draco leaned back, eyes bloodshot. “Let’s go home.”

Harry nodded, and he side-alonged Draco back to Grimmauld Place. 

When they got there, they went back to the bedroom and quietly took off their robes and clothes, falling into bed. The low sun cast the room in a warm but dim light. 

“I need you to stay with me, okay?” Draco said quietly. “I need you to not stay in bed every day and disappear on me. Please.”

“Okay, I’ll try. But, you were right—this is going to destroy us, isn’t it?” Harry took a slow deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“No, we can’t let it, okay?” Draco ran his thumb over Harry’s cheek. “It’s fucking awful that we have to wake up the same every day and that we can’t even stay anywhere for long, but we need to try, okay? We’re going to go different places—we’ll make a schedule if we have to. We’ll plan every few days where we make ourselves go do different things. And, we already know we can get a portkey in the morning, and yes it sucks that we will still wake up here, but it’s something—we can go different places every week or two. Even if we have to keep going back three or four days in a row, we’ll do that.”

“But I’ll never get to wake up next to you,” Harry said quietly.

“I know, love. Trust me I know, but we’ll make it work. We have to, okay? Because I’m not losing you. You promised me you wouldn’t give up on me so easily, do you remember?”

Harry nodded, feeling a tear slipping down his face.

“Good. And you don’t lie, I know you. You’re a terrible liar, actually.” Draco huffed a laugh. “So, you can’t give up yet. I love you, so you can’t give up.”

“Okay.”

Draco pulled him tight and Harry let himself relax enough to fall asleep.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry woke up and slowly came to consciousness.

He was warm, too warm, so he pulled down the duvet and realized with a start that he wasn’t alone. Draco groaned and started to stir.

“Draco!” Harry sat up, grabbing his glasses off the nightstand.

Draco slowly opened his eyes and then they shot open as he sat up quickly.

“What? How?”

“It worked! It must have worked!” Harry looked around the room, noting small differences—their clothes strewn on the floor, his wand in a different spot on the nightstand. Draco let out a whoop of a laugh and then tackled Harry back down onto the mattress, planting a hard kiss on his lips.

They both laid there, kissing and laughing for several minutes.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it worked. I thought that was it.” Harry sighed. It was going to be okay. It was going to be better than okay, he realized, looking at Draco, who was smiling brightly.

“Can we still go on vacation?” Draco asked, with a crooked smile.

Harry laughed. “Absolutely. Anywhere you want.”

“I don’t care, just anywhere—somewhere with a nice hotel, and we can stay up too late and sleep late and do something completely different every single day.” Draco grinned, turning on his back.

“We probably need to go wrap up the case first though, or at least put in a report about why we were there and why we broke the device last night.” Harry couldn’t bring himself to care about the fallout. He didn’t even care if Robards put him on desk duty for months.

“Oh, I suppose.” Draco sighed, but he still had a huge grin on his face.

“I can actually get through the lobby without being run into for once,” Harry said.

“I won’t have to listen to Edna’s stupid fucking story about her sister’s dogs. Thank Merlin for that.”

Harry turned on his side and propped himself up on an elbow. “I’m definitely going to go grocery shopping. Never again am I letting my cupboards get this empty. I am so bloody sick of eating out.”

“I’m going to need a new wand.” Draco added with a sigh.

“Oh, yeah- I forgot about that.”

“If I just needed to trade my wand for the blasted loop to end, I’ll consider it a fair trade,” Draco said. “Oh- I can finally call a Magical Plumber to fix those damn spells on my shower.”

His smile fading, Harry felt his heart clench at the idea of not seeing Draco every morning. He wondered what it would change. Would they stop seeing each other so frequently? He couldn’t imagine his life without Draco, without seeing him every night, having dinner, talking about their day, their lives.

Steadying his nerves, Harry said, “Or... you could not fix your plumbing.”

Draco looked at him askew. “What?”

“You could just stay here. With me,” Harry said, heart racing. “Move in with me?”

“Oh.” Draco’s eyebrows raised. “You’d want- are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Harry was pushed back as Draco tackled him again, kissing him hard. Harry pulled back slightly with a laugh. “Is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes.” Draco smiled broadly and pinned Harry to the mattress.

✦ ✦ ✦

Harry stepped out of the floo at the Ministry, looking around for the differences and feeling a wide smile spread out over his lips. It was all different—all the people. A moment later, Draco appeared beside him.

They made their way through the Atrium, a bit later than they normally arrived as they found themselves otherwise occupied that morning.

“I’m going to miss our morning coffee,” Harry said as they passed the welcome desk.

“We can still have coffee or tea, just at home,” Draco reminded him with a smile, and Harry felt like his chest might burst at the thought.

Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Draco look so happy and wondered if his own face mirrored the emotion. He knew a lot of that was the relief of finally being out of the loop, but he also knew a part of that was their relationship and maybe even a possibility of a future. Draco looked over and returned Harry’s smile just as Harry slammed into someone around the last curve. Coffee was dripping down his front and he looked up to see the same damn bloke with the coffee cup.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Here, let me-” The Wizard lifted his wand and Harry knocked it to the side.

“No! It’s fine, I can get it.” Harry cast a cleaning spell at his robes, shooting a dirty look at Draco, who was doubled over, laughing uncontrollably.

After several more apologies about spilling his coffee on Harry, which Harry let him go on about even though he knew he’d actually been the one at fault this time, the Wizard finally continued on his way.

“Are you done?” Harry asked, arms crossed, as Draco gasped for air.

Draco straightened out, taking deep breaths. “That was-” He let out another abrupt laugh. “I can’t believe he ran into you again.”

“Yes, yes, hilarious. Let’s go. I’m pretty sure I have suspension or desk duty to look forward to,” Harry said, as he headed towards the lifts.

“Harry, wait. We don’t actually have to tell Robards that you set it off. I know I said that, but I wasn’t being serious.”

Harry looked over at him. “I appreciate that, but what else are we going to say?”

“We could say it got set off when I was securing it,” Draco offered as they entered the lift, moving to the back to stand next to each other as other employees filed in.

“Draco, no.” Harry said quietly, careful to not be overheard. “I saw the way your colleagues are, don’t do that. I was the one that set it off—maybe we can just leave out the part where it was because I was arguing with you.” Harry smiled.

“I don’t know, Potter. What’s in it for me?” Draco said with a smirk.

Harry laughed and then leaned in and whispered some options in his ear, as Draco’s smile got broader.

“Well, in that case.” Draco gestured for Harry to exit first as the lift arrived on Level Two.

An hour later, they finally finished explaining everything to Robards. Half way through the meeting, Hermione had been pulled in and was surprised to receive gratitude and credit for all the help she’d provided on a case for which she had no recollection.

“So, the artifact is inactive now?” Robards asked as he tapped his finger on his desk.

“As far as we know, but I would still handle it carefully, just in case,” Draco answered.

“I wonder if I might study this artifact further, Head Auror Robards?” Hermione asked.

“This is still an active Auror investigation, Ms Granger. Potter, you and Weasley will still need to finish this up and work the robbery case.”

“Erm- actually, I was hoping to take some time off,” Harry said.

Robards looked at him for a long moment. “How long did you say you were stuck in this loop?”

“We didn’t,” Draco replied. “We don’t actually know anymore, but it was at least five or six months, possibly longer.

Robards was quiet for a minute, still drumming his fingers on the desk. “Okay, I’ll put Savage and Spinner on the case. Put in your holiday leave request and I’ll approve it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry breathed out.

As they walked out of his office, Hermione turned to them. “That must have been so stressful, but still it would be interesting to live without consequences. Did you two ever do anything? You know, that you couldn’t normally do?”

Harry smiled. “You’ve said that before.”

“Oh, have I? How interesting…”

Harry smiled, appreciating his friend’s consistency for, hopefully, the last time. 

“Are you going out of town for your holiday?” she asked Harry, as they slowed down near the lifts.

“Yeah, we’re thinking somewhere new,” Harry said with a smile and continued down the hall, following Draco towards his office.

“We?” Hermione called after him.

Harry grinned and looked over at Draco.

“Think we’ll traumatise Weasley again?” Draco asked.

“Probably, but we can just let Hermione explain it to him this time.”

“You want to wait in my office or come with me to explain to Alton about the loop and why I’m taking several weeks holiday?”

“I’ll come with—make sure he knows I set off the device. I can’t believe Robards didn’t say anything about that part.”

“I think he was too stuck on wrapping his head around the whole story,” Draco said.

“True. Well, hopefully he’ll forget about it before we get back,” Harry said with a laugh.

✦ ✦ ✦

_ 5 months later _

“Hey, can you finish this up? I’m gonna take off.” Harry grabbed his winter cloak off the hook on the side of their cubicle.

“It’s barely five.” Ron looked at his watch.

“I have plans,” Harry said, with a smile.

“You know, I’m happy for you and all, but I miss the days where you were a workaholic. I had so little paperwork to do,” Ron said wistfully.

Harry let out a laugh. “Sorry, mate. I’ve got someone to get home to now.”

“I know, I know. Are you two going to be at Sunday dinner at The Burrow?”

“Of course—see you then. I have something for Rose and Hugo, as well.”

“You really need to stop spoiling them. It’s bad enough with my mum.”

“Never!” Harry called out as he walked out towards the lift.

He slid his way onto the already full lift with all the other Ministry employees cutting out early on Friday.

A few minutes later, he exited the lift and saw Draco waiting for him by the sculpture path, a grin breaking out on his face. He walked over and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, threading his fingers through Draco’s. “Hey.”

“I was reading through the Muggle paper and there’s a new Mediterranean restaurant that is supposed to be excellent,” Draco said, as they made their way through the Atrium.

“New is good,” Harry said with a laugh. Even all those months later, they still both felt the need to try new and different things whenever possible. Until the loop, as they still referred to it, he’d never cared much for getting out and seeing the world. Now, it had become as much a part of his life as work or friends. While Harry was sure some of it was the trauma of the loop, he knew it was more to do with having someone he looked forward to doing it all with. He smiled to himself as his hand closed over the small ring box in his pocket and looked over at Draco. It had been burning a hole in his pocket all week, not finding a busy weeknight quite the right time. Tonight was the night; he was sure. 

“What’s that look?” Draco asked. 

“I’m just happy,” Harry replied, as they neared the floo. 

Draco smiled a rare smile where he completely let his guard down; the one almost always reserved for Harry. “Happy is good.”


End file.
